


Shaking hands with the Devil

by MatleenaMaddie



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dream is still a green bastard, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Family counseling would be better than letting a God manipulate you Mr. Minecraft, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Phil is a shit dad but he isn't addressing it the right way, Should that be considered progress?, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, SleepyBoysInc - Freeform, This time he is manipulating an adult though, isn't he always?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29183574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatleenaMaddie/pseuds/MatleenaMaddie
Summary: The smile on the mask seems gentle, filled with pity. “A father shouldn’t have to bury his sons.”Phil nods. A jerky nod from a grieving father. Dream isn’t wrong. They’ve taken his children. His last son is on the run. Dream’s voice is filled with compassion as he continues:“L’Manberg has truly hurt you, Philza.” Phil nods. “It’s taken your sons from you.”Another nod. Phil clenches his eyes shut. “It should know better, now, shouldn’t it?” Phil freezes. Dream’s tone is no longer amused or light. It’s cold and direct. It has a message. A demand.“Dream?” he asks, his voice hollow. And Phil’s eyes widen almost comically when he sees the item Dream is holding. The forbidden item. Sky’s the Limit. Phil should know there is no limit for Gods. A snap and Phil gets his wings back. He sighs in relief at the familiar feeling of the soft feathers on his back. And, under his mask, the God smiles.“L’Manberg has hurt you too much, Angel of Death,” Dream says, “Maybe it is time you hurt it back.”OR: Phil decides that L’Manberg is definitely not good and Dream convinces him to go feral.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 222
Kudos: 325





	1. Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I am very excited to be posting this! 
> 
> It started a whiiiile back, and basically takes its roots in Phil's POV of the Butcher Army/Techno's execution day. Except here, Phil doesn't run away to go check on Techno and Tommy, and instead, he stays under house arrest and is visited by the Green Man.  
> I just think Phil should be allowed to hate L'Manberg and go feral. As a treat.
> 
> The entire work is already written and I will be updating it regularly, most likely daily or every other day :)  
> Once again, shout-out to Kim who is still making sure that works do not become abandoned WIPS by peer-pressuring me into finishing them.
> 
> Enjoy!

Phil is under house arrest.

Phil is under house arrest in the nation his sons built.

In the nation that drove one of his sons crazy and led him to his suicide. In the nation that exiled his youngest son. In the nation that just attempted to execute his eldest son.

Phil is under house arrest, and he is furious.

He is almost shaking with rage as he restlessly goes through his chests, mentally listing his belongings. In his ender-chest, the friendship emerald and Ghostbur’s Blue. In one of his wooden chests, a hole. Something missing. The compass. Techno’s compass.

Phil lets himself fall on a chair and takes his head in his hands. He almost lost his last son. His  _ last _ son.

Tommy’s gone. Wil- Ghostbur said so. He spoke of the craters at Logstedshire.  _ Like L’Manberg but more recent, Phil. More recent. _

Phil murdered his first son. He drove a sword through his baby boy’s chest. Ghostbur remembers it as a happy moment. Phil wakes up at night, in a cold sweat, the crazy glint in Wilbur’s eyes imprinted into his mind. He should have come home sooner, Phil regrets once more. For what seems like the hundredth time. If he had been back just a few days earlier, maybe he could have taken Wilbur – his baby, his son – in his arms. Maybe he could have taken all the wrong away. Instead, he’d come and killed his son. Because he knew that was the only solution. The last good thing a father could do for his son. Because Wilbur was too far gone, and the L’Manburgians would have destroyed him. They would have broken him. More than he already was. It was the right choice; Phil knows it. And yet, that does not stop his mind from plaguing him with nightmares.

Phil lost his second son. Tommy. The youngest. The baby. The most impulsive, brash, arrogant-  _ his baby boy _ . They exiled him, and Phil wasn’t there to see it. He wasn’t there to stop it. He wasn’t there to follow his son in exile. 

Instead, he’d had to hear it from the ghost of his late son. Ghostbur had grinned.  _ Tommy and I are lads on tour, Phil! We’re on a vacation! You should come visit us! _ And so Phil had. And he’d almost felt sick at the view of the island, the small tent, the camp. His son’s ragged clothing. His son’s unsure smile. He had barely thought before rushing to his ender-chest, grabbing diamonds, and making shoes. Tommy’s slippers. Anything to remind his son that he was not alone. That his father loved him. 

_ We’re having a party, Phil!  _ Ghostbur had said. _ Tommy told me to distribute the invitations!  _ Phil hadn’t received one, and he’d tried not to feel upset. His son was sixteen – he wanted to hang out with his friends, not his father. Phil had closed his eyes and chosen to ignore the worry gnawing at him. And now he wishes he had. 

Because Ghostbur said that the campsite was destroyed. Burnt to the ground. And Phil knew that it was his fault. He should have checked on Tommy more. He should have come to the party, even if he wasn’t invited. He hadn’t though. And now Tommy was gone. And Phil feels a hole in his chest.

Phil has one son left and he just witnessed his almost-execution. He’d repressed the scream on his lips when the anvil fell. When his arrow missed. If he closes his eyes, he can see the anvil falling again, and again, and again. Techno had been safe – of course, he had, Phil’s sons are smart and skilled – but Phil can’t forget the anvil falling. The crack in his son’s skull right before the totem took effect. Phil almost lost his last son. 

And they’d forced him to watch. They’d built the execution stand in front of his house, right under his window. And if it had gone through-… Phil presses his eyes closed. If it had gone through, Phil would have seen his last son fall, in front of his eyes. And he would not have been allowed to hold Techno’s body as he passed.

Phil feels anger filling his body.

He almost jumps in surprise when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns very slowly and represses a step back when he is met with the smiling white mask.

“Dream,” he says in a voice he hopes even.

“Philza,” the deity responds, his voice humming with a mix of kindness and concern, “I came as soon as I heard.” Phil nods, unsure what to say. The iron on his ankle feels heavy. Heavier. The God moves his hand away and sits on the other chair, in front of Phil. There is silence for a few minutes. Phil looks around quietly. Dream wants him to talk – it’s clear in the way the God’s posture is not fully relaxed and in the way his head is tilted slightly to the right. Observing him. Waiting.

“You saved him,” the older man eventually says, “You freed Carl and took him – took them both – to that safe place in the mountain.” Dream nods quietly but does not respond. He waits for Phil to continue. “Did you also tell Punz to interrupt the execution? Did you arm Techno? Is that why he survived against Quackity?” Another nod. And still no words. Phil starts feeling a bit uncomfortable. A bit antsy. “Why?” he asks. And he knows it’s not possible – because it’s a mask – but he could swear that Dream’s smile widens.

“Technoblade’s death was not in my interest,” the God says simply, “Neither was Wilbur’s. Or Tommy’s.”

“And yet, Tommy and Will are gone,” Phil points out, closing his eyes for a second at the flash of  _ pain _ that goes through him as he enunciates the words.

“A God cannot interfere in the mortals’ world, Philza.”

“You did today,” Phil responds immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“So I did,” the God says with an unbothered shrug, as if it were that simple. He does not continue afterward, does not explain his choice, and Phil knows better than to push him. They fall into silence again – a more comfortable one this time, as Phil runs his thumb on the friendship emerald. Dream makes no movement to leave, and Phil knows that their conversation is not over.

“Techno does not do debt,” Phil eventually says, a small smile on his lips as he thinks of his eldest son (his last son) “He’ll remember it, but he won’t pay it back.” Dream nods.

“I know.”

“I do,” Phil continues, and he looks up to the deity, the weight of everything that happened today falling on him. He feels old, suddenly. He is a father, and he lost two children and his last one was on the verge of death today. “You saved my son, Dream. I’m in your debt,” he states, staring at the unmoving smile.

“I know,” the God replies, and there’s a smile in his voice.

“So what do you want?” Phil asks, growing a bit more impatient. He tries not to look disappointed or concerned when Dream shrugs and does not answer. His thumbs run back and forth on the friendship emerald, his eyes locked on the deity as the God stands up and looks through Phil’s chest quietly.

“Would you like the compass back?” Dream asks lightly, “I could enchant it to allow you to see Techno’s hearts too.” Phil tries to repress the hope that blooms through his chest. An easier way of keeping track of his son? It feels too easy – too nice.

“What do you want?” he repeats. Dream hums and does not reply. He walks away to the locked door and closed windows. He shakes his head lightly, amused, and the wood that blocked the windows disappears. The door clicks open. Phil watches, a frown on his face. He does not protest, however, when Dream walks back towards him, kneels at his feet. A God on his knees. At his feet. Phil feels like he could faint. Dream hums, not acknowledging the position, and he puts a cold hand against Phil’s ankle monitor. The device beeps instantly – a strident sound that has Phil grimace – before falling off of Phil’s ankle. Dream puts it back with a small click, but the ankle monitor is no longer flashing. No longer tracking Phil. The man opens his mouth to question the God, but he does not have the time.

“L’Manberg has caused you a lot of pain, hasn’t it, Philza?” Dream asks lightly. Phil widens his eyes ever so slightly. Is that what this is about?

“You could say that,” he replies, his voice a bit strained. Dream hums.

“It drove Wilbur to suicide,” he states, and Phil repressed a flinch at the harsh, cold reality, “Wilbur created this city-state, protected it, gave it his all. And they led him to his death.” Phil does not respond at that. He knows Dream is right.

“Then they exiled Tommy,” Dream continues, his tone pleasant and comfortable, as if they were talking about something entirely different. “And judging by the tower they found, Tommy might have shared Wilbur’s fate.” Phil clenches his eyes shut. On his lips, a prayer for Dream to  _ stop _ , to stop reminding him of his sons’ demise. The God continues, though, and Phil reluctantly opens his eyes again.

“And today, they tried to take Techno too. And they made you watch.” Phil nods, forcing his face into an imperturbable mask, but he knows, in the way Dream’s head tilts slightly, that the God can see the suffering – and the anger – in his eyes.

“Thanks the stars I was able to intervene,” the deity continues, “If I hadn’t…” He trails off, and the smile on the mask seems gentle, filled with pity. “A father shouldn’t have to bury his sons.”

Phil nods. A jerky nod from a grieving father. Dream isn’t wrong. They’ve taken his children. His last son is on the run. Dream’s voice is filled with compassion as he continues:

“L’Manberg has truly hurt you, Philza.” Phil nods. “It’s taken your sons from you.” Another nod. Phil clenches his eyes shut. “It should know better, now, shouldn’t it?” Phil freezes.

“Better?” he asks. He can feel the smile behind Dream’s mask widen.

“Better than hurting a grieving father,” he clarifies, “And, well, better than antagonizing you, Philza.”

Phil looks up immediately. Dream’s tone is no longer amused or light. It’s cold and direct. It has a message. A demand.

“Dream?” he asks, his voice hollow. And Phil’s eyes widen almost comically when he sees the item Dream is holding. The forbidden item.  _ Sky’s the Limit _ . Phil should know there is no limit for Gods. And so he tries to keep his hands from shaking as he accepts the offer. A snap and Phil gets his wings back. He sighs in relief at the familiar feeling of the soft feathers on his back. And, under his mask, the God smiles.

“L’Manberg has hurt you too much, Angel of Death,” Dream says, “Maybe it is time you hurt it back.”


	2. Fundy & Ranboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should have refused the moment they threatened to hurt Techno.” The words seem to strike, and Fundy responds with some clear anger in his voice:  
> “Technoblade destroyed my home. He betrayed us and destroyed everything.”  
> “You betrayed him,” Phil defends, “And the moment you chose to seek revenge instead of letting him enjoy his retirement, you also betrayed me.” Fundy looks like he’s been slapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second part! :) This was originally two chapters but Fundy's part was so incredibly small that I decided to just fuse both Fundy's and Ranboo's parts into one chapter.   
> As you will soon discover, each chapter focuses on Phil's interaction with one other character. This one, though, has two. 
> 
> We see a little bit more into Phil's state of mind, and the hint of a plot seems to appear at the very end. 
> 
> Enjoy!

##  Fundy

Phil is facing his grandson. And he feels nothing. Fundy looks contrite. Guilty. Remorseful. But Phil cannot make himself care about the boy’s feelings. Not when the boy tried to kill his son. The older man looks as Fundy opens and closes his mouth, tightening his hands into fists to give himself courage.

The silence between the two of them is awkward. It is so incredibly far from the comfortable silence Phil and Techno normally share as they sit in the warmth of the log cabin, while the snow falls around the house. This silence is deafening. It is full of everything that’s left unsaid between Phil and his grandson. ‘You killed my father.’ ‘You abandoned him first.’ The memory of Wilbur’s laugh floats between them and neither of them dares pronounce his name. The man’s absence is a constant dull pain that sharpens when Phil and Fundy look at each other. Phil will never be able to look at Fundy without seeing his son in the boy’s eyes, and Fundy will never be able to hear Phil’s voice without wishing for it to be Wilbur’s. 

Phil barely knows Fundy anyway. He has not seen the boy grow up, has never felt the same kind of paternal love he feels toward his sons. But Fundy is everything he has left from Wilbur. He has to love him. Or, well, he did. But Phil cannot make himself love the boy who attempted to murder his son. Cannot make himself forgive him.

“Is there anything that you need, grandpa?” Fundy finally asks, making Phil jump in surprise as the silence is finally broken.

“That I need?” he repeats, frowning in confusion. Fundy shrugs and gestures around the house awkwardly. “Well, like food or tools, or anything to keep you occupied. You’re stuck here, so I thought…” He pauses and makes a small, tentative smile. His tone becomes progressively more excited as he continues: “Maybe I could bring my chessboard? Not the giant one, of course, but I have a small one. I’m pretty good at chess! We could-” Phil interrupts him before he can finish:

“And who’s fault is it that I am stuck here?” he asks in a cool voice. Fundy flinches and Phil almost feels guilty at interrupting the peace offer. Almost.

“Grandpa, you can’t–”

“I can’t what?” Phil interrupts, “Do you want me to ignore the fact that you made this ankle monitor?” Fundy pales at the words and Phil feels a certain satisfaction at the reaction. “I’m not stupid, Fundy. Tubbo and Quackity can’t make that kind of device. And Ranboo wouldn’t. That leaves one suspect.” He stares at his grandson, waiting for him to try to deny it. Fundy doesn’t. The boy just looks down, his expression a mixture of shame and regret. It changes very quickly, though, and, soon, Fundy chooses a defensive stance.

“What was I supposed to do? Refuse to support my friends?”

“Yes.” Phil hits, his voice cool, “Yes, you should have refused the moment they threatened to hurt Techno.” The words seem to strike, and Fundy responds with some clear anger in his voice:

“ _ Technoblade _ destroyed my home. He betrayed us and destroyed everything.”

“You betrayed him,” Phil defends, “And the moment you chose to seek revenge instead of letting him enjoy his retirement, you also betrayed  _ me _ .” Fundy looks like he’s been slapped. He is quiet for a long moment, before moving his arm, seemingly extending it toward Phil. A gesture of peace. Maybe a desperate attempt by an orphaned boy to receive the paternal care he needs.

“Grandpa–”

“Leave,” Phil demands. Fundy goes to protest until he sees the anger in his grandfather’s eyes. And, somehow, he feels afraid. He stands up shakily, and looks at Phil again, searching his face for any sign that the man might change his mind. Phil doesn’t move. Fundy looks down and scurries off.

Phil has lost his grandson. And he desperately ignores the guilt in his chest and chooses to focus on the feeling of satisfied anger.

  


***

  


##  Ranboo

He almost doesn’t notice when Ranboo enters. The Enderman hybrid is extremely quiet. If Phil didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that the boy simply teleports from room to room. He knows better, though, and he gives Ranboo a curious look along with a small gesture to sit down.

“I talked to Fundy,” the boy says as he sits, and Phil tenses immediately.

“Oh, have you?” The half-Enderman gives a nod and seems to search for the right words before he continues:

“He seemed… upset,” he tries, “He doesn’t really have any family besides you, Phil.” The older man swallows thickly, trying to prevent the guilt from setting residence in his chest.

“I made my family,” he says, “Tommy, Will, and Techno. Fundy was a part of it too, until he decided to go against Techno.” Ranboo’s lips curve into a tiny, tentative smile.

“So you do have a favorite?” he jokes. Phil chuckles humorlessly but does not respond. He stands, suddenly feeling unable to meet Ranboo’s heterochromatic eyes. The boy seems to know way too much. Ranboo doesn’t protest and watches as Phil walks to the small kitchen and sets some water to boil. The two men fall into a somewhat comfortable silence that is only interrupted by the whistle of the kettle. Ranboo occupies himself by looking around the house. If he notices that most of the family pictures are missing, he does not comment on it. Phil eventually takes two cups and fills them with the hot water, carefully selecting some herbs.

“Is black tea okay?” he asks politely, not waiting for Ranboo’s answer to prepare the two cups. He puts one down in front of Ranboo just in time to see the boy’s nod. He sits back in front of him and lets out a sigh.

“It was strange to see you with the rest of them,” Phil comments more matter-of-factly than in any attacking manner. Ranboo makes an amused – and slightly embarrassed – expression.

“Yeah, it was weird for me too. I was just… there. So they suggested I come.” He shrugs. Phil nods.

“I see.” Ranboo is fast to continue:

“But I didn’t know they would actually go through with the execution,” he says quickly, “I believed them when they talked about a trial. I know he- Techno caused a lot of destruction, but honestly, I wasn’t there, so I–”

“Relax,” Phil interrupts with a chuckle, “I’m not angry at you.” The tension in Ranboo’s shoulders disappears almost instantly and Phil cannot help but be reminded of Techno when he was younger. When things were simpler, and Techno liked to pretend that he didn’t care for Phil’s approval as much as he truly did. Phil smiles and continues: “I saw it in your eyes, Ranboo. You’re not a bad kid.” The hybrid opens his mouth – to protest, to say that he wasn’t a  _ kid _ – but Phil doesn’t give him the opportunity: “Something bad is happening in L’Manberg.” Ranboo tenses again at the words and he looks away, toward the windows.

“It is,” he agrees, “Tubbo’s not like that, though, I don’t–”

“Tubbo tried to kill my son,” Phil interrupts, his jaw clenched and his voice firm. Ranboo looks down in defeat.

“Yeah,” he admits, “Yeah, he did.”

They fall into silence again. This one is less comfortable. There is a clear tension in the air and the tea suddenly tastes bitter in Phil’s mouth. Ranboo hums to himself – a small noise that seems far from human, and instead sounds much closer to the small vibration an Enderman makes. It seems that the sound helps him because the boy looks back up at Phil, his eyes shining with something more certain, more decided that Phil cannot fully comprehend.

“You know, Phil,” he begins, “I have a lot of memory issues.” Phil frowns, unsure what the kid is trying to say.

“You do?” he asks carefully.

“Yeah,” Ranboo confirms with a nod. “Like I didn’t remember when Tommy and I burnt parts of George’s house.” Phil is still confused but he chooses to give a careful nod, waiting for the half-Enderman to continue. He does: “So I write down my memories in a diary.”

“I see,” Phil says quietly, “That sounds quite smart.”

“It is,” Ranboo responds with a small smile. “That way, I know everything that happened in the day. But…”

“But?”

At this point, both men are tense, knowing that their conversation is far from the innocent one it seems to be. Knowing that, at any second, one of them may utter words of treason, words that would go against L’Manberg.

“But maybe I could forget to write certain… events down,” Ranboo finally says. Phil feels like he can suddenly breathe again. He stands up immediately and the boy does not seem any surprised about it.

“You’d do that?” the older man asks carefully. Ranboo shrugs and stares at his cup.

“You helped me, Phil,” he simply states, “And I am loyal to those who helped me.” Phil doesn’t wait for him to change his mind. In a second, he has spread the wings he’d been keeping hidden and ripped the ankle monitor off. Dream has already deactivated it, of course, but it feels good not to have the weight on his ankle. Phil is halfway up the ladder, well-intent on reaching his balcony, when he hesitates. He pauses and looks at Ranboo, still frozen at the table, his eyes carefully focused on the ceramic cup.

“Thank you, Ranboo,” he utters genuinely, “I won’t forget it.” The boy makes a nervous smile.

“I will,” he says, “Good luck, Phil.”

For the first time since Wilbur died, Phil allows a genuine smile to reach his lips. Hope blooms in his chest as he reaches his balcony. The man only takes a few seconds to stare at the city his sons built. He feels no attachment to it. He breathes in the cold air for a second. It’s cold and cloudy; if he flies high enough, no one will be able to see him. Phil doesn’t hesitate: he takes flight. He frees himself.


	3. Ghostbur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil pushes past the ghost and keeps walking around the camp without saying anything else. After a few seconds, Ghostbur chooses to follow him, humming My L’Manberg softly. It’s barely as loud as the wind. They walk through the destruction and Phil almost religiously touches some of the elements that stayed intact. The music box near the remnants of the tent. The walls around the camp. A chair on the beach. All signs that Tommy was there. That Tommy lived there. That he slept there, ate there, and maybe – maybe – longed for his father there.  
> The guilt in Phil’s stomach almost prevents him from breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 3!
> 
> A little bit more about what's happening inside Phil's mind, a lot of Sadza, and some hint of a plot. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Everything around him is destruction.

Phil has been on the ground for only a few minutes when he feels his stomach heave violently. He has to crouch for a minute, his palms against the cold, dry ground. He can still smell the gunpowder in the air and, more than that, he can  _ sense _ his son’s despair.

He eventually stands up shakily and walks through the deserted camp. His vision becomes increasingly blurry. He isn’t really sure when he started crying, but once he stops at the bottom of the tower, his cheeks are drenched. He presses a trembling hand against the stone and cranes his neck to look at the top of the tower. It goes farther than the clouds and Phil lets out a wet chuckle. Tommy always liked flying, always asked him to take them higher and higher and  _ above the clouds, Dad! _ Phil wonders if, maybe, he should have taken Tommy flying more often.

He wonders what Tommy thought when he was up there.

Had he thought of him?

Had he hoped that Phil would come flying and catch him before he hit the ground? 

Phil clenches his eyes shut and forces himself to stop thinking about it. It won’t bring Tommy back. Nothing will bring him back. L’Manberg stole his son.

L’Manberg stole both of his sons.

Phil gets lost in thoughts and that’s why he jumps when he hears his late son’s overjoyed (fake, wrong,  _ not Wilbur _ ) voice.

“Hey, you’re free now!” the ghost notices excitedly.

“That I am, Will,” Phil responds, his voice devoid of strong emotions, “That I am.”

“And you have your wings!” he adds. Phil smiles mirthlessly and spreads his wing a little to let his son take a look.

“Do you remember them?” he asks softly. He still isn’t certain how to act around the ghost of his son. Everything in the man’s behavior suggests that he should be treated like an ingenuous and innocent child. Ghostbur beams brightly and sings carelessly. And Phil loves him and hates him at the same time. Loves him because he is his son, and Phil loves seeing his son happy. Hates him because he knows that Ghostbur is but a memory of his child. An empty shell.

“I do!” Ghostbur responds happily. “You took us flying on the weekends!” He pauses, and Phil smiles sadly, “Was Techno afraid of heights?” Phil hesitates.

“Not as much of heights as he was that you or Tommy would wiggle out of my grasp and fall. If it had been up to him, neither of you would have flown for years.” Ghostbur hums in understanding.

“Technoblade was kind,” he says, and it’s less of a question than a statement of fact. Phil looks back at the ghost and gives a shaky nod.

“He is. He is a very kind man. Some people just don’t look past appearances.”

“Then, if he is kind, why would Tubbo and the others try to hurt him?” Phil freezes.

“You remember that? I thought you didn’t remember negative events?” Ghostbur shrugs.

“I’ve been remembering more lately,” he admits, “Things about a ravine and an explosion and–” He catches Phil’s wide eyes and his pensive expression immediately shifts into the loopy smile Phil has become some familiar with. “Don’t look so scared, Phil. Calm yourself. Have some blue!” He hands the man a few balls of the dye and Phil takes them without thinking. Ghostbur snorts. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” – A pause then beams – “You have! You’ve seen me, Phil!” Phil closes his eyes. The moment has passed. His son is gone again.

“I have,” he responds with a joyless smile.

He pushes past the ghost and keeps walking around the camp without saying anything else. After a few seconds, Ghostbur chooses to follow him, humming  _ My L’Manberg  _ softly. It’s barely as loud as the wind. They walk through the destruction and Phil almost religiously touches some of the elements that stayed intact. The music box near the remnants of the tent. The walls around the camp. A chair on the beach. All signs that Tommy was there. That Tommy lived there. That he slept there, ate there, and maybe – maybe – longed for his father there.

The guilt in Phil’s stomach almost prevents him from breathing.

He feels his legs give up and finds himself on the sand, body turned toward the ocean and eyes staring past it. Did Tommy spend time looking at the sea, hoping to see the coast of the Dream SMP kingdom? Hoping that, perhaps, he would see a boat on the horizon?

Phil is afraid of the answer.

The silence is broken by Ghostbur, who flops down next to him.

“I like the beach. Do you think Tommy would want to hang out with us?” Phil lets out a surprised sound – wet and broken. But he doesn’t have the heart to tell Ghostbur that Tommy  _ cannot _ hang out with them.

“I’m sure he would, Ghostbur,” he replies, trying to keep his voice even. The ghost lets out an overjoyed sound and jumps to his feet.

“I’ll go get him, then!” Phil clenches his eyes shut, because it  _ hurts _ .

“Don’t–” he says quietly. He isn’t sure if Tommy would come back, like Wilbur did. His and Techno’s research showed that Ghostbur had formed because he had some unfinished business ( _ My L’Manberg, Phil! My unfinished symphony, forever unfinished! _ ). Tommy wouldn’t. Not if he chose to end it himself.

And even if Tommy did, Phil doesn’t know for sure that the view of his second late son (his baby boy, his  _ child _ ) won’t break him. Ghostbur’s presence is a constant ache and Phil isn’t certain he could withstand Tommy’s ghost. Another proof of his failure to protect his sons.

“Please, let him rest,” he begs, and Ghostbur tilts his head curiously.

“Does Tommy need rest?” he asks in the innocent, curious voice that is so far from Wilbur’s (and yet it is  _ his _ voice). Phil chuckles wetly and, before he knows it, the laugh becomes a sob.

“He does. He does. He deserves it. He fucking deserves to rest, Will.”

The ghost does not reply, and Phil almost feels relieved when he is left in silence. He starts to believe that his son left when a cold hand touches his shoulder.

“Why are you sad, Phil?” the ghost whispers, “You shouldn’t be sad. Why are you sad?” Phil just clenches his eyes a bit tighter and shakes his head. He doesn’t think he has the strength to say it.

Maybe Wilbur will understand when he sees the grave.

Phil will need to bury his son, he thinks. To let him rest. He will need to find the body. He isn’t sure he can do it, though. He cannot be certain that the view of Tommy’s pale (too pale) face wouldn’t break him.

Maybe he’ll have to ask Dream.

“Hey, Will, did Tommy like L’Manberg?” he asks. Would he want to be buried there, in the city he built? Or would it be better to bury him under a spruce tree, near Techno’s cabin, where his family could visit him?

Phil jealously hopes for the second option. He doesn’t want L’Manberg to have his son.

“He loves it!” Ghostbur replies immediately. “He keeps telling me that he wants to go back!” Phil swallows difficultly and berates himself inwardly. He cannot afford to just keep crying.

“I see,” he says quietly. Ghostbur hums before asking his own question:

“What about you? Do you like L’Manberg?” Phil represses a hysterical laugh. L’Manberg killed his sons.

“I don’t know, Will,” he responds. The ghost deflates.

“He created it, though,” he points out, “Alive-bur. He created L’Manberg. It made him very happy.” Phil smiles joylessly.

“I know.”

“So L’Manberg must be good?” Ghostbur insists, “If it made Alive-bur happy. It is good, right?” Phil lets out a very long sigh.

“It was,” he says. “It was good, Will.” He doesn’t know that it is still the case now, though. Maybe Techno was right, and maybe power does corrupt, because Tubbo is not the sweet boy he used to be. Instead, he is someone who banished his best friend and condemned a man to death. L’Manberg is driving Tubbo crazy the same way it did Wilbur, and Phil doesn’t know what to tell his son. “You did a great job creating it, mate.”

_ Your city destroyed you and your brothers _ , he wants to say. He doesn’t.

Ghostbur doesn’t seem too convinced. He opens his mouth to ask another question but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Phil is on his feet immediately, his hand on the hilt of his diamond sword (the one that killed his son). He knows he doesn’t stand a chance when he sees the glowing Netherite armor, but he will  _ not _ go down without a fight.

He won’t let them take him back.

The intruder drops his sword and raises his hands in an appeasing manner. Phil blinks. Neither of them moves for a few, long seconds, until the newcomer removes his helmet.

“Punz?” Phil asks, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He barely knows the mercenary. Neither of his sons had had a close relationship with him and so, when Phil joined Dream’s lands, he had not had an opportunity to truly meet the man.

He knows one thing, though: Punz was there during Techno’s execution. And he helped his son. He helped Dream save Techno and, for that, Phil will forever be grateful. He lowers his sword.

“Dream wants to see you,” the mercenary says in lieu of a greeting. Phil is quiet for a second.

“Dream?” he repeats. Punz nods curtly. “He told you to come get me?” Another nod. Phil frowns. He hasn’t told anyone where he was going. He is unsure how Ghostbur found him, but he just assumed that the ghost followed him. He tends to do that. Punz, though, Phil is not certain.

“How did you find me?” he asks carefully. Punz shrugs.

“He told me you would be there,” he responds nonchalantly. It does not seem to phase him that the God knew exactly where a fugitive would be. That Dream would somehow know of Phil’s whereabouts, even when an entire city-state was being turned upside down to find him. But Punz doesn’t seem surprised, so Phil chooses not to question it.

“And he wants to see me?” Phil asks again. Punz nods.

“He told me to accompany you back.”

“Back where?” Phil tenses. He won’t go back to L’Manberg.

“Fuck if I know, dude,” the mercenary replies, “He tells me what to do, gives me coordinates, and I do it.” Phil hesitates, but he knows he can’t really fight Punz. He could fly away, of course, but Dream seems to know where he is. And Phil has chosen to trust the God. He nods.

“All right, then.” He puts his sword back in its sheath and looks to Ghostbur for any indication of what the ghost will do. He frowns a little at the conflicted expression on his son’s face as he stares at Punz.

“Will?” he prompts gently. Ghostbur blinks a few times before the hollow look in his eyes appears again and he gives Punz a bright smile.

“Punz!” he says excitedly, walking to the mercenary and handing him some balls of dye. “Please, have some blue!” The mercenary looks at the ghost for a few instants and guilt flashes across his face before he accepts the dye with a smile.

“Thanks, Ghostbur,” he says, and the ghost beams proudly.

“Are you coming with us, Will?” he asks patiently. His son hesitates before shaking his head.

“I’m going to go hang out with Technoblade and Tommy,” he claims happily. Punz frowns and throws Phil a confused look. He mouthes ‘Tommy?’ The older man shakes his head, a plea in his eyes. Please don’t tell him. Please don’t break my son again.

Punz says nothing. Instead, he walks to Phil, grasps his arm, and throws an Ender pearl.


	4. Dream, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream’s hands move down to reach for the wings. There are fascination and curiosity in the God’s movements and Phil chooses to let him lightly touch the feathers. The touch is soft and harmless.  
> “They suit you,” Dream says in a warm voice. He lets out a small chuckle at a joke only he has heard. Phil looks at him questioningly before the God decides to enlighten him: “Angel of Death,” he explains and softly caresses the wings, “Those wings don’t fit the name. They’re too beautiful.” Phil hesitates.  
> “You gave them to me,” he states carefully. Dream smiles under his mask.  
> “I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 4! 
> 
> This is the second time Phil meets with Dream, and it is not going Great. Or I mean, maybe it is. Dream's being nice and allowing Phil to grieve properly.   
> I hope you are all liking the story so far!!
> 
> Enjoy!

They’re in the sewers, and Phil is confused.

He is not certain where Punz is taking him, but the mercenary is quiet as he walks ahead, turning every so often to make sure that Phil is still following him.

Of course, he is. Where else would he go?

Punz is not very loquacious, he finds, but he chooses not to comment on it. He doesn’t exactly want to talk either.

They eventually come to a stop near a junction in the tunnel. It is clear that it was dug in a rush, as if to link the sewers to another underground room. Punz silently hands Phil the torch he has been carrying and gives the man a short gesture with his chin. ‘In there,’ it says. Phil nods. He hesitates before speaking.

“Thank you,” he says, “For helping Techno.” Punz shrugs.

“Don’t thank me,” he responds indifferently, “I was paid. Thank Dream instead.” He moves his chin another time and Phil understands that he is dismissed.

He gives Punz a hesitant look before he steps into the tunnel. A second after, he hears the sound of the armored boots walking away. For a second, Phil thinks of turning back and leaving. Of joining Techno in his log cabin and settling there, in the quiet of the tundra.

But Dream has saved his son and Phil has a debt toward him. Dream wants to see him, so he shall.

The room is plunged into darkness when he arrives. Phil quietly lights the torches on the wall, squinting around the space. He is alone in a small black room, surrounded by chests. He reads the inscriptions on each of them.  _ ‘Tommy _ .’  _ ‘Tubbo _ .’  _ ‘Fundy _ .’  _ ‘Wilbur _ .’  _ ‘Eret _ .’  _ ‘Techno _ .’ He freezes at the last name. Techno? He presses a careful hand against the chest, touches his finger to the wood. The room smells of copper, he suddenly notices. Blood. He bits his lips.

He thinks of calling Punz back when he hears a light ‘pop.’

And then Dream is there.

He is not wearing armor, and yet he feels more imposing than Punz had, a second ago. He is not even carrying a weapon, and yet Phil knows that the man – the God – is untouchable.

For half a second, Phil thinks of dropping to his knees.

He doesn’t though, because Dream moves in, and squeezes his shoulders as if he were greeting an old friend.

“Philza,” he says, gently holding him there, “I am so glad to see you safe.” Phil chooses to believe it, because he doesn’t know what he would do if it were a lie.

“Thank you…” he responds hesitantly.

Dream’s hands move down to reach for the wings. There are fascination and curiosity in the God’s movements and Phil chooses to let him lightly touch the feathers. The touch is soft and harmless.

“They suit you,” Dream says in a warm voice. He lets out a small chuckle at a joke only he has heard. Phil looks at him questioningly before the God decides to enlighten him: “Angel of Death,” he explains and softly caresses the wings, “Those wings don’t fit the name. They’re too beautiful.” Phil hesitates.

“You gave them to me,” he states carefully. Dream smiles under his mask.

“I did.” He moves back, letting go of Phil’s shoulders, and he turns around the older man to better observe him. Phil shifts awkwardly under the God’s gaze but decides against protesting. After a minute, Dream lets out a small, irritated sound that immediately has Phil’s eyes on him, panicked.

“They stole your armor, didn’t they?” he asks. Phil relaxes slightly at the question and nods.

“They did. They put it all under lock and key.”

Dream sighs and curses under his breath before he nods.

“All right,” he says, “Expect a delivery from Punz in a few days.” Phil widens his eyes in surprise. Is Dream- Is Dream going to arm him? Why?

“Dream, I don’t–” he tries. The God interrupts him:

“Do you still have the trident I gave you?” Phil shakes his head.

“My weapons and tools were taken too,” he responds before giving a pathetic chuckle, “I’ve resorted to stone tools for now.” Dream nods curtly.

“That won’t do,” he says, “I need you to be well-equipped.” Phil frowns, and everything in his being screams  _ danger danger danger _ .

“You need me to?” he repeats carefully. Dream shrugs simply, as if he hasn’t shattered Phil’s world.

“Of course I do,” he replies, “It would be a shame if I went through the effort of getting you out simply for you to get arrested because you don’t have the means to defend yourself.” Phil hesitates before giving a slow nod. It makes sense. Dream gave him wings and essentially betrayed L’Manberg for him. The God probably wants to make sure that it wasn’t for nothing.

They fall into silence, Dream carefully examining Phil, and Phil trying not to move away from under the God’s piercing eyes.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Dream asks. Phil shakes his head mutely, and the God smiles. “Good,” he says, and he extends a hand that lightly touches a strand of Phil’s blond hair. “Good.” Phil stays completely still – almost forgetting to breathe.

Dream chuckles, warm and friendly and he lets go of Phil’s hair.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Angel of Death,” he says, “And I won’t let anyone hurt you either. You can relax.”

Phil doesn’t. Dream tilts his head very lightly and Phil can see the muscles in the God’s neck clench, and he knows that the deity is displeased. He tries to appease him with a shy smile.

“I know,” he says, “I’m sorry, it’s just–”

“They’re going to bury Tommy,” Dream states, not letting him finish. Phil’s heart feels like it has been stabbed at the reminder of his son’s death. He can’t take it. He hasn’t managed to mourn for Wilbur, and he is the one who killed him. He will never mourn for Tommy – not when he wasn’t there for him. Not when he could never say goodbye. He needs something – anything – to make it false. To give him his son back. “Will you want to be there?” Dream continues.

“In L’Manberg?” Phil laughs disbelievingly, “Dream, I can’t–” he trails off when he sees the bottle the God is holding. The pink liquid shines through the glass. “Invisibility?” he breathes, his eyes wide.

“Two hours,” Dream says, a smile in his voice, “It’s one of my most potent ones. Do with it what you wish, Philza.”

Phil is left completely voiceless. He stares at the God in front of him, trying to understand why or how he gained the favor of the deity. He hasn’t done anything to deserve Dream’s kindness. Sure, they have exchanged polite words and sometimes traded with one another but, at the end of the day, Phil supports his sons through and through. His sons who have defied Dream over and over. And yet, Dream has saved one of them. And he is giving Phil the opportunity to say goodbye to another.

“Why?” he manages to ask. Dream shrugs lightly, as if it was all that simple.

“He was your son,” he responds in a gentle voice, “You deserve to see him go.”

That breaks him.

Phil falls on his knees in front of the deity, a grieving father who cannot express the gratitude in his chest.

He feels hot tears running down his cheeks and his mouth pronounces the same words over and over again.

_ Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you _ .

He hears Dream shift a bit closer and, through his blurry vision, sees a gloved hand presented to him.

He hesitates before he takes it between his shaking hands and reverently presses his lips to the back of the hand.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against the leather, “Thank you, thank you.”

Dream’s other hand comes to gently hold the back of his head. He shushes him, petting his hair like a parent reassuring a child. He keeps him there indulgently – a God holding a broken father. And Phil lets him.


	5. Technoblade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is good to see you,” he says, his eyes scanning the Piglin for any wound, any injury. Techno seems intact. He seems healthier even, and Phil realizes with a pang to his heart that the retirement was good for him. Still, he devours the image of his son, committing every detail to memory. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”   
> Techno shrugs indolently. “Perks of having a literal God on your side,” he chuckles.   
> Phil’s smile fades a little. That’s right. He was sent to his son for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 5! And, as you can see from the title and the chapter summary, Phil is finally meeting up with Techno :)))  
> Now we can all just hope that Techno will be enough to help Phil grieve and convince him that Dream is Not Good News. 
> 
> I love writing Phil and Techno soooo much, and I've had an absolute blast with them in this fic. This is just the first hint of their relationship here :)
> 
> Enjoy!!

When Phil sees Techno, he almost forgets how to breathe.

He looks at his son, tall and strong, on the porch of the log cabin, and the love he feels is so strong that it almost suffocates him.

“My son. My son.” He moves in and presses his hands to Techno’s cheeks, cupping his son’s face between his hands. And there’s only one thought that goes through his mind. Protect him. Keep him safe.

He knows Techno can keep himself safe, of course, but it is so good to be able to see him, to hold him.

He is his last son.

“Nice wings you’ve got there, Phil,” the taller man eventually says, breaking the silence with teasing words. Phil chuckles – Techno was never one for emotional moments – and lets go of his son, taking a step back.

“It is good to see you,” he says, his eyes scanning the Piglin for any wound, any injury. Techno seems intact. He seems healthier even, and Phil realizes with a pang to his heart that the retirement was good for him. Still, he devours the image of his son, committing every detail to memory. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” 

Techno shrugs indolently. “Perks of having a literal God on your side,” he chuckles. 

Phil’s smile fades a little. That’s right. He was sent to his son for a reason.

“Will you join his side?” he asks. Techno frowns and looks back at Phil in surprise. The confusion in the Piglin’s eyes is so clear, so obvious, and it hurts more when Phil is reminded that his son doesn’t normally express his emotions.

“Join him?” he repeats, red eyes scanning the human for signs that the words were a joke, “Phil, what are you talking about?” Phil takes a deep breath. He has his answer. Dream has his answer.

Technoblade is a free man. He has no attachments, nothing that can control him. Not even his family, as much as Phil wishes he could say the contrary. So Phil knows that he was right when he told Dream that Techno did not do debt. That Phil would have to pay off his son’s debt instead.

“He saved you,” he states carefully. Techno blinks for a second before he makes a smile – one that reveals his tusks, and Phil is reminded of his son’s raw power.

“He helped me,” he shrugs, “That was his choice. No strings attached.” Phil frowns.

“Techno, you can’t decide that.”

“I never asked for his help,” the Piglin points out, shaking his head. “He gave it freely. There was no agreement, no deal, no nothing.”

“He  _ saved  _ you,” Phil insists, his voice firm. Techno shoots him  _ a look _ .

“Why are you so hellbent on that?” he asks, eyebrows raised in confusion. “You barely know him.” He pauses and it seems that he catches the pain and the fear in Phil’s eyes. Except he can’t address it, of course, because Technoblade does not express emotions. So, instead, he stretches his lips and gives the man a confident smirk. “And I would have survived anyway.”

Phil cracks.

“You don’t know that!” he exclaims. That’s enough to wipe the smile off Techno’s face and make him look at Phil, disconcerted. It is clear in the sudden tension in Techno’s shoulders that he had not been expecting the outburst. Phil looks away – he cannot take the worry in Techno’s eyes.

“Phil?” his son asks, his voice low and careful.

“I can’t lose you, Techno,” the older man breathes – a plea.

“You won’t,” the Piglin replies quietly. “Phil, you won’t.” Phil looks back up. They stare at each other for a few beats before Techno opens his arms.

Phil falls into them and he holds onto the blue cape as tight as he can. Techno seems to falter for a second before arms are wrapped around Phil, the hold strong and safe. Phil takes a deep breath, slowly calming himself as he listens to the slow beating of his son’s heart. He is safe. He is alive. Techno is immobile and dumbfounded for a minute before he starts gently rubbing Phil’s back.

“I’m here…” he whispers as Phil shakes in his arms. The older man takes a deep breath before he says the words that have been haunting him.

“Tommy’s dead, Techno,” Phil murmurs against the fur of his cloak. Techno freezes completely. “I’m sorry,” Phil continues, “I’m so sorry…”

Techno doesn’t answer and so Phil pulls away from the embrace, looking up at his son’s expression. There’s something strange in Techno’s eyes. A puzzle he is desperately trying to solve. Phil wishes once again to be able to read his son better. But Technoblade is a mystery. Always has been.

“Techno?” he calls gently. The Piglin presses his lips together and lets out a very low hissing sound.

“How do you know?” he asks, his voice cold – too cold, full of controlled anger.

“Ghostbur found Logstedshire destroyed,” Phil says, “And Dream… Dream saw a tower.” He hesitates. “I think he found his body. L’Manberg is holding a funeral.” Technoblade is incredibly still, but there’s a growing tension in his jaw.

“Dream, is that right?” Phil frowns a little in confusion but nods.

“He helped me escape,” he says, “He gave me an invisibility potion to attend the funeral.” He pulls the bottle out of his cloak. “We can share it. You can come with me.” Techno shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Phil misses a beat.

“What?”

“I’m not coming to the funeral, Phil,” Techno deadpans. Phil wishes he had misheard. He cannot take this right now. He cannot take Techno’s refusal to acknowledge his feelings or their family. It would break him.

“Techno, this is your brother we’re talking about.”

“I know,” Techno says, and he grits his teeth together, “I’m not coming.”

Phil wants to fight it, to convince Techno that it is their last chance to say goodbye to Tommy – Phil’s son, Techno’s brother, loud, boisterous, precious Tommy. Phil’s baby boy. He wants to fight it and argue but he is so, so tired. He closes his eyes, feeling so incredibly weary all of a sudden.

It’s fine, he thinks, people have different ways of mourning and perhaps Techno just needs time alone to grieve. He bits his lips.

“Okay,” he says, meeting Techno’s surprised eyes. The Piglin looks like he was getting ready for an argument. “Okay.”

They’re both silent for a few, long seconds. Techno’s not looking at him anymore – observing the snow around the cabin instead. Phil stares at his son, trying to decrypt the tension in his son’s shoulders. Eventually, the Piglin lets out a small, irritated sound.

Phil knows it’s worry, not irritation.

“Are you okay, Phil?” he asks, “Really?” Phil lets out a mirthless chuckle.

“I lost two of my sons, Techno,” is his reply. Techno opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something, before visibly changing his mind and simply giving a nod. There’s another beat of silence.

“You won’t lose me.” Phil smiles sadly.

“I know,” he says, and he comes closer to gently put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “I know.”

He knows because he’s made a promise to Dream. His services against Techno’s safety. And for as long as Phil upholds his end of the agreement, Techno will be safe.

He won’t allow harm to come to him.

Philza will not lose another son.


	6. Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the L’Manbergians are fully gone, Phil slips off the roof and walks to the gravestone. He kneels in front of it, suddenly feeling guilty he didn’t bring anything. Not even flowers.  
> Who is he kidding? Tommy never cared for flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello, I hope you are all having a good day. I come with pain :)  
> It's just pure Hurt; and Comfort is still nowhere to be found. 
> 
> For real though, a short chapter but an important one, I think. I hope you all enjoy it! Action will start picking up next chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!

L’Manberg is quiet.

L’Manberg is quiet and Phil, even if he has only lived there for a few months, knows that it is not normal. He sits on the roof of a house, silent and broken, and looks as the L’Manbergians gather around a marble gravestone.

Phil looks at it and he wants to chuckle and cry at the same time. Surely Tubbo would know that Tommy cared so very little for precious stones. That a simple stone gravestone would have sufficed.

Tubbo looks so small and fragile. Broken. Phil has to combat his instincts to descend from the roof and wrap the child into a comforting hug. Tubbo had been by Tommy’s side for all his life. He had become Tommy’s brother. Phil had considered him a son. But the man cannot allow himself to forget Tubbo’s decision to exile his best friend out of the city-state he built.

So instead of comforting the child (and seeking comfort from him), Phil watches.

They all look as Dream arrives, a black cloak replacing the usual green, and they let the God press a hand against the gravestone and murmur a few words. The grave shines a bit brighter and Dream steps back. Phil assumes that the God enchanted the stone so that it would never break. Dream moves to talk to Tubbo. They whisper to one another for a moment before Tubbo hands the God a small object. Phil narrows his eyes, desperately wishing he could be closer. He catches the way the object reflects the sun and his heart falls in his chest. The compass.

The compass Ghostbur gave Tubbo. The one that had a twin – one that probably died with Tommy. Phil looks as Dream takes the object, turns it a few times in his hand, before whispering a few words. The purple energy around the compass flickers before it returns to normal. Dream hands it back to Tubbo, using his other hand to gently squeeze the boy’s shoulder. Tubbo’s face is so incredibly pale and hollow and the boy shivers when Dream caresses his cheek in a gentle gesture.

Tubbo’s mouth moves again and Dream visibly tenses before giving a nod. The others are immobile near the grave. Tubbo looks a little bit more determined and he moves away for an instant. He rummages through an ender-chest and comes back, holding a black circular object. A disc.

Tommy’s disc.

If any of the L’Manbergians notice the way Dream tenses at the sight – and the way his mask proceeds to continuously follow the small object – no one mentions it. Tubbo speaks again and Fundy and Ranboo nod, digging a small hole in front of the gravestone.

Even with the distance from which he is observing, Phil can see the way Tubbo’s hands shake as he envelops the disc in some heavy black fabric. Once it is carefully wrapped, Tubbo, with all the gentleness in the world, places the package in the ground. The boy’s shoulders shake as Ranboo and Fundy use their shovels to push the dirt back in the hole, filling it until the disc is just a memory.

Tubbo breaks down at this point, and he hunches onto himself, hugging his knees, and Phil has to fight  _ so hard _ not to rush in and take the child in his arms. Ranboo does it for him. The tall Enderman hybrid wraps himself around the president, hushing him gently. Fundy seems to hesitate before he joins in, pressing a hand on Tubbo’s shaking shoulders and eventually starting to rub his back in a comforting manner.

Dream observes the scene without moving.

And Phil cries from the roof.

* * *

It takes them a long time to vacate the area.

Tubbo stays and stays and refuses to go, and cries when they try to gently take him away. But there’s only so many tears that can be cried and, when Tubbo has cried them all, he lets himself be walked away, a puppet in his friends’ hands. Tubbo’s so pale and his expression is so incredibly filled with pain that Phil thinks of forgiveness.

A look at the execution stands strengthens his resolve.

Once the L’Manbergians are fully gone, Phil slips off the roof and walks to the gravestone. He kneels in front of it, suddenly feeling guilty he didn’t bring anything. Not even flowers.

Who is he kidding? Tommy didn’t care for flowers.

“Hey Toms,” he says in the gentle voice he used when Tommy had nightmares when he was younger, “Hey-...” He thinks of something funny to say. Anything. Nothing comes to mind. “Hey.”

He lets out a very long sigh and clenches his hands into fists.

“Is the Afterlife good?” he asks, “I hope you’re not bothering Will too much.” He lets out a wet chuckle. “Well, Will’s with us. Ghostbur is, I guess. But I’d like to think that you also have Will with you.” He presses a hand to the grave. “He was always here for you, wasn’t he? Way more than Techno and me.”

He laughs softly, quietly, and he isn’t sure if he is crying.

He has spent so much time crying.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I should have been there with you. I should have followed you into exile.” – A sigh – “Hell, I should have been there from the beginning. Much before Pogtopia and L’Manberg exploding, and–”

He laughs again. Why can’t he stop laughing?

“That’s not going to change anything, is it, mate? Me rambling about what I should have done.” He lets his hand fall from the grave and onto the dirt. “I’m a pretty terrible father, aren’t I? Lost two of my sons in such a short amount of time.”

He presses his hands to his face, shielding his eyes from the grave.

“Shit, Tommy, you’re too young to die. Too happy. Too… Too Tommy. You can’t do that to me…”

His shoulders shake and, this time, he knows it’s because he is crying.

“You  _ can’t _ ,” he repeats, a bit more desperately.

L’Manberg is so quiet now. Phil could have sworn that even the wind has stopped blowing.

“What am I supposed to know? What is Techno supposed to do? You can’t leave us, Toms. Not like that.”

He cries into his hands.

“It’s not fair.”

He falls into silence and remains there, kneeling near his son’s grave, his wings wrapped himself in a pathetic effort to simulate a hug.

He stays there way too long, way past the time the invisibility potion’s effects fade. The sun sets and Phil hasn’t moved. It’s only when the entire city is completely plunged into darkness that Phil stirs. He stares at the gravestone for a long moment before shakily getting back to his feet. He looks again, and a feeling of profound sadness washes over him.

“Bye Tommy,” he says, “I love you.”

Phil spreads his wings and leaves his son.


	7. Technoblade, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So," Techno starts carefully, "Did they even bury the body?" Phil frowns at the change of topic but shakes his head.  
> “Dream says it fell in lava.” Techno clicks his tongue in annoyance.  
> “Ah, so Dream says,” he repeats coolly. He casts a glance at Phil. “Wasn't the original story about a tower?” Phil blinks.  
> “Dream said-“  
> "I don't care what Dream said, Phil. What do you say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here is chapter 7! 
> 
> I am very sorry about all the upsetedness from Tommy's funeral. My wife laughs and say that I just thrive on y'all's tears.  
> Maybe she is right.  
> This chapter should be a little nicer - not great, but maybe less Hurt. Still no Comfort. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

“You look like shit.”

Phil knows Techno is right, but he can’t help the sarcastic response:

“Jeez, mate, thank you, exactly what I wanted to hear.” Techno doesn’t look amused and presses his lips together in concern.

“No, seriously. You look like shit. Did you sleep?” Phil gives him a hard look. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

They stare at each other for a moment and Phil tries to bite down the anger he feels at the thought that Techno skipped the funeral.

“Who was there?” Techno finally asks. Phil takes it as the offer of peace that it is.

“The L’Manbergians,” he responds, “Tubbo, Fundy, Ranboo, Niki.” He meets Technos’s eyes. “Dream.” Techno lets out a scoff.

“Dream. Of fucking course.” Phil frowns.

“Techno, he saved you.” His son lets out a long sigh.

“I thought we’ve been over this, Phil.” Phil clenches his jaw. They have. They have said everything that needed to be said.

“Yeah,” Phil whispers. He and Techno glance at each other and there’s a silent agreement that’s formed between them. Techno hums and hands the older man a cup of tea.

“Drink it,” he instructs, “It’s cold outside. And it will give you strength.”

Phil accepts it silently, warming his hands around the cup. Techno moves to the chimney, rekindling the fire while Phil takes a sip.

“Oh, did you want honey?” the Piglin asks, making Phil look back up at him. “You made the farm. It would be unfair to keep it from you.” Phil shrugs.

“I’m alright, mate. Thank you.” They exchange a smile and, for a minute, Phil thinks that things will be okay between them.

That is, until Techno breaks the silence again.

“So," he starts carefully, "Did they even bury the body?" Phil frowns at the change of topic but shakes his head.

“Dream says it fell in lava.” Techno clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“Ah, so Dream says,” he repeats coolly. He casts a glance at Phil. “Wasn't the original story about a tower?” Phil blinks.

“Dream said-“

"I don't care what Dream said, Phil. What do  _ you _ say?” Phil clenches his eyes shut.

“I can't do this, Techno. Please. He's gone. He's gone. Please don't-”

He hears the Piglin shift awkwardly, the same way he did when he was little and Phil chided him for bothering his brothers. Then, there's a warm hand on his shoulder and Phil shudders. He looks up at Techno's concerned, remorseful expression.

“I'm sorry...” his son whispers. Phil makes a pathetic smile.

“I know,” he responds, “It’s just a lot for me, Techno.” The Piglin nods, and it is clear in his eyes how worried he is for his father.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “But Phil, you should know–”

Phil doesn’t find out what he should know because the door opens, and his eyes catch Punz’s.

“It’s freezing up here, Jesus!” The mercenary complains. He stops dead in his spot when he sees Techno’s hand on his sword, and a feral smile makes its way on his lips. “Oh?”

Phil intervenes before any of them can strike the first blow, placing himself between the two men.

“Techno, don’t– He’s with us.” Techno growls, not letting go of his sword.

“He’s not with us, he is with Dream, Phil.”

“He saved you at the execution,” Phil tries to reason with his son, putting a hand on the Piglin’s wrist and pushing lightly. Techno gives an angry huff but sheaths his sword.

“That was his choice. I asked for nothing.” Phil closes his eyes, not wanting to have that discussion again.

“I know,” he says, “It doesn’t matter.”

Techno does not take his eyes off Punz but he relaxes a little.

“You know what does matter? The fact that my  _ secret base _ is being frequented by the entire server.” He speaks a bit louder for Punz. “How did you find it?”

Punz does not reply to him. He puts his calculating eyes on Phil.

“He wants to see you.”

“‘He’?” Techno repeats. He exchanges a look with Phil who cannot help but feel ashamed. As soon as Techno reads the guilt in Phil’s eyes, his entire stature seems to drop. “Phil, no. No. Come on.”

Phil closes his eyes. He can’t bear to look at the disappointment in his son’s expression.

“He saved you, Techno.”

“Yeah,  _ me _ ! Not you. You owe him nothing.” Phil makes a sad smile.

“I do, Techno. He  _ saved  _ you.”

“What does it matter?” Techno insists, “I would- I would have gotten away either way. Phil- Phil, you can’t just–”

“I have to!” Phil snaps, “I don’t think you understand. I can’t lose you.”

“So you’re going to  _ Dream _ ?” The way Techno pronounces the God’s name makes Phil take a look at him. It sounds like Techno’s voice is dripping with disgust. As if Dream’s name itself was poison.

Phil didn’t know there was so much bad blood between the two.

Sure, there has always been a rivalry. But as far as Phil knows, that was all it was. A rivalry. And Techno had never looked so exhilarated than after a fight with Dream – the only opponent that could hold his own against him. Phil doesn’t understand the source of the sudden disgust in Techno’s voice. He doesn’t understand the anger in his son’s eyes.

“I have to,” he repeats, “He will keep you alive. He promised.”

“I can keep myself alive,” Techno responds, his voice hard. Phil shakes his head.

“You don’t know that, Techno,” he says in a broken voice, “I thought that Will and Tommy were safe.” Techno grits his teeth, casting an incredulous glance at Phil.

“It’s not the same thing, Phil.”

“But it is!” Phil looks into his son’s eyes, desperation in his voice, “Techno, it is! I can’t lose you. Please.” Techno stares back at him, shaking his head.

“Not like that.”

Punz clears his throat.

“Phil,” he interrupts, “He doesn’t like waiting.” Techno’s eyes are filled with fire at the words and, for a second, Phil thinks that he is about to leap at Punz.

“Phil,” the Piglin warns, “Do not leave with him.”

Phil gives his son a smile filled with sadness and love. He comes a bit closer, reaching up to touch Techno’s cheek. Techno steps back.

“Don’t,” he spits, hard and dangerous. Phil lets his arm drop and he tries not to feel the pain that appeared in his chest at the rejection.

“I love you,” he says.

“Phil, no…”

“I love you so much, Techno.”

“Philza, do not leave this house.”

It’s for his own good, Phil tells himself as he turns his back to his son. He tries not to hear the way Techno’s breath hitches in his throat when the Piglin realizes that his father is truly leaving. (He fails).

Punz throws him a questioning look and Phil nods. They leave.


	8. Dream, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gloved hand shifts from the back of his neck and reaches his cheek. It cups it tenderly before its thumb reaches up, gently wiping away the tears that Phil unknowingly let out.  
> “Shhh…” Dream hushes gently, “It will be okay, Angel of Death. I won’t allow harm to come to him.”  
> “I know,” Phil repeats in a sob. The hand tenses very slightly against his cheek.  
> “I need you to help me, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Phil's next meeting with Dream!   
> Phil is getting in a little bit of a pickle, now, and he's pretty much isolated himself from everyone. Not Great.
> 
> Thank you for all of the kind comments! I really appreciate them, and I love seeing how y'all react to the story :))
> 
> Enjoy!

They meet on top of a cliff. Phil listens as the waves come crashing against the rocks, retreating and then coming back again, over and over. He watches the foam remain on the rocks for a second and disappear when the water comes and drowns it next.

He focuses on the sights around the cliff so he doesn’t remember the betrayal in his son’s voice. Something in him screams that he shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be meeting with Dream. But at this point, it is too late. The God has promised that Techno would be safe, and Phil needs to thank him for putting his son under his protection.

“Philza,” Dream says, his voice kind and compassionate like it was in their previous meetings, “You look well.”

Phil almost laughs at the ironic parallel between Dream’s compliment and Techno’s deadpan of the truth an hour earlier. He knows he looks more tired, more broken, than he has in years.

“I’m-” He chooses not to contradict the God. “Thank you.”

“The armor suits you,” Dream continues, “I’m glad Punz was about to find something on such short notice.”

The two men turn to look at Punz, who stayed at the bottom of the cliff. He is not looking at them, instead gazing to the horizon.

“He works very hard,” Dream comments, a hint of fondness in his voice, “And he is extremely loyal.” Phil nods, unsure why the God is revealing this to him.

“Is he?” Phil replies. Dream hums.

“The same way you are towards your son.” He pauses, “You would die for him, wouldn’t you?” Phil’s breath catches in his chest.

“A million times over.”

Dream approaches him, slow and gentle, and he gently caresses the back of his hair with one gloved hand.

“He’ll be safe,” he reassures, “I’ll keep him safe.”

Phil nods, pressing his eyes shut to prevent traitorous tears from slipping out. Techno will be safe, but at what price? Is his son’s life worth his hatred?

Phil looks to the sea and he remembers the feeling of holding Wilbur’s limp body in his arms. He closes his eyes again and the Logstedshire’s tower returns to haunt him. He shudders.

Yes, Techno’s life is worth everything. If saving him means that Techno would never look him in the eyes again, then Phil will accept his fate.

“I know,” he finally breathes out, “Thank you, Dream.”

The gloved hand shifts from the back of his neck and reaches his cheek. It cups it tenderly before its thumb reaches up, gently wiping away the tears that Phil unknowingly let out.

“Shhh…” Dream hushes gently, “It will be okay, Angel of Death. I won’t allow harm to come to him.”

“I know,” Phil repeats in a sob. The hand tenses very slightly against his cheek.

“I need you to help me, though.” Phil freezes and he looks up to the smiling mask.

“Help you?” he repeats. Dream nods.

He is silent for a minute and Phil almost loses himself in the sound of the waves – steady and calming. Phil breathes in rhythm with it until the God speaks again.

“There is someone…” He seems to hesitate, and Phil focuses his whole attention on the deity, “There is someone, who is to me like Techno is to you.”

Phil nods, curious, alert, but doesn’t interrupt.

“I care about his safety,” Dream continues, “I want – I  _ need  _ him to be safe.” A long sigh. If Phil was the smallest bit distracted, he wouldn’t have heard the suffering and the regret in the God’s voice. “But he doesn’t… I am not allowed near him.”

Phil frowns and he tries not to be reminded of Techno, of his ultimatum, of the betrayal in his voice when he had ordered Phil to stay.

“What did you do?” he asks. He doesn’t want to judge; he just senses that Dream needs that form of support. Even Gods need shoulders to cry on.

“I tried to protect him,” Dream chuckles mirthlessly, “I was clumsy in my attempt and I hurt him instead.” Phil tries not to let the words hit too close to home. He lets Dream continue. “I dethroned him. I wanted to protect him from… from the pain of governing and from all those who might mean him harm.”

“George?” Phil asks gently. He has barely interacted with the former king, but he has heard about his close relationship with the God of the lands. He’s heard that George was Dream’s protégé. He has heard that Sapnap took the man away after a fallout. This explains it all.

“George,” Dream confirms. And the way the God pronounces his friend’s name holds so much tenderness and pain at the same time. Phil looks at Dream and feels pity toward the deity.

“What can I do?”

Dream moves away and turns toward the sea. Phil hesitates before he follows him, standing by his side and looking to the coast of the Dream SMP kingdom.

“I need you to protect him,” the God says, his voice gentle and hesitant – almost human, “I need you to protect him for me.”

Phil represses a chuckle. This is funny, in an ironic way. Dream lost his best friend and he is asking Phil to protect him. Phil lost his and he is counting on Dream to keep him safe.

It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

They’re silent for a moment longer.

“How?”

“Sapnap will not care if you’re there,” the God says, “It’s just me he doesn’t want around.” He pauses. “Punz will take you to their house. You can stay with them if you need a place. They won’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asks with a frown. Dream shrugs.

“Trust me,” he just says, and Phil decides to do so. He is quiet for a few more minutes before he continues asking his questions.

“What exactly are you expecting me to do?” Dream’s voice sounds a bit shaky when he responds:

“Just keep an eye on him,” he replies, “Keep- Make sure that he stays safe.” Phil nods.

“Can do. How long?”

Dream’s next reply is a bit ominous, but Phil chooses not to read too much into it.

“Until the threat is under control.”

The God clearly has secrets, has things that he doesn’t tell Phil. Phil chooses not to blame him. There are mysteries in life that are left to Gods alone.

Besides, Phil is afraid that probing too much is going to upset Dream, is going to make the God come back on his decision to protect Techno.

That’s the real reason Phil doesn’t ask.

“I understand,” he says. (He really doesn’t). “When do you need me to go?”

“As soon as you’re ready,” Dream says, “Do you need to talk to your son first?”

Phil completely freezes and, for a fraction of a second, he wonders if Dream knows, if Dream is taunting him. But he looks back to the man and his posture is relaxed, his head slightly tilted in curiosity.

“Philza?” he calls, “Are you okay?” Phil closes his eyes.

“I can go now,” he says instead of responding. Dream seems hesitant before he nods.

“All right,” he responds. His voice is gentle, compassionate – worried even, “I am here if you need to speak.”

Phil shakes his head.

“I’m okay,” he lies, “I’m fine.”

Dream is not convinced but he doesn’t push. Instead, he holds out a sword for Phil to take. He recognizes it immediately and takes a step back, wings bristled in fear. It’s Nightmare. Phil can see the power in the sword, can  _ sense _ its past, the number of opponents it has slayed or brought to their knees.

“Dream?”

“Take it,” the God says, “Use it to protect George.”

Phil blinks a few times and shakes his head.

“I can’t,” he whispers, “Dream, it’s- It’s Nightmare.” The God chuckles.

“I know,” he says, his tone teasing and amused, “It’s mine. I forged it.” He holds it out a bit closer to Phil, who still cannot believe what’s happening.

“Are you…?”

“I’m sure,” the God says, and there’s a smile in his voice, “Take it, Philza. There’s no one else I would rather have it.”

Phil takes the weapon, his hand shaking as it closes around the hilt. He feels like he is signing a pact, consenting to do something – he just isn’t sure what.

For a second, he thinks of giving the sword back.

But Dream seems so relaxed, so earnest, and he turns his back to Phil, even after he has given him one of the most powerful weapons in the world. Phil doesn’t understand how he has earned the trust of a God.

A voice that sounds like Techno’s whispers in his head that he should take the opportunity and strike. Phil shakes that thought off immediately, almost afraid of it.

_ Dream trusts him. _

Dream trusts him with his best friend’s life.

Phil can’t break that trust. He sheathes the sword and moves to join Dream on the edge of the cliff.

The sun is setting over the ocean. For a few instants, they just contemplate the horizon as the sky changes color. Dream’s mask is illuminated by the orange lightning and he feels more  _ human _ , more  _ mortal _ , than Phil has ever seen him. He almost feels fragile as he contemplates the immensity of the ocean. Phil almost instinctively wraps a wing around him, in a protective manner. Almost.

Dream breaks the moment.

“It’s getting late,” he says, “You and Punz should go now, if you don’t want to encounter too many monsters.”

Phil nods and moves away. He can recognize a dismissal when he hears one. He turns and Punz is suddenly behind them – Phil isn’t certain when he arrived, when he took the time to climb the cliff.

“Hey,” Punz says simply, placing a hand on Phil’s shoulder, “Ready?”

Phil glances at Dream who has gone back to contemplating the sea. He hesitates. There are hundreds of questions on his lips – many he doesn’t want to ask, and many he already has the answers to.

He nods.

They leave.


	9. George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s some pain in George’s voice, but mostly an extreme weariness. Phil suddenly feels for the man who has lost an entire kingdom and his God in the same fateful evening. Who has reduced himself to living in a minuscule safe house, away from the land he used to rule, with only one man remaining as his loyal subject – as his friend. Phil says nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here is chapter 9!
> 
> We are taking a slight break from the heavy plot, but staying in the realm of Angst. Phil is not too hurt this time, though, huzzah!
> 
> Enjoy!

Dream was right: Sapnap is very welcoming. He didn’t question Phil’s presence or his motivations for coming all the way to El Rapids. It just took Punz mentioning that Phil was on the run from L’Manberg and the door was opened a bit wider. Phil had vaguely recalled that Sapnap was always by Dream’s side in the God’s crusades against his sons – against L’Manberg – and he chose not to question the man’s generosity any further.

Sapnap is a wonderful host. He makes sure that Phil always feels at ease and safe within the safe house. He brings provisions and lets Phil help him with cooking, chatting all the way as if they had been friends for years.

George, though? George is the opposite. He won’t  _ look  _ at Phil. Anytime they find themselves in the same room – and that’s often, given how small the house is – George finds an excuse to leave. Dinners are awkward; Sapnap tries to talk the tension out of existence but George keeps his lips firmly shut and his eyebrows furrowed in an anger he doesn’t explain to anyone.

Phil hears them argue about it at night, but he decides that this is too private. He forces himself not to listen.

(He hears George crying and Sapnap promising that he will not let Dream touch them).

He thinks about reporting it to Dream but cannot bring himself to do so. Despite everything he owes to the God, revealing this information seems too far.

He just pretends he didn’t hear anything.

George continues avoiding him.

This avoidance can’t last forever, though, and one night, after they’ve all gone to bed, Phil sneaks out to spread his wings.

He flies for a few hours; he lets the wind ruffle through his hair and play with his wings. He floats over L’Manberg and over the Dream SMP Kingdom and over the ruins of Logstedshire. Everything is so much smaller from up there, and Phil almost feels free of all the pain this world has brought him. Almost.

When his urge to fly is finally sated, Phil lands back in front of the safe house, panting but satisfied for the first time in months. His muscles ache with exhaustion but he feels content. Calmed.

He meets George’s eyes. His smile falls.

“Hey,” the former king greets. He maintains eye contact for a second before turning his attention back to the starry sky.

“Good night,” Phil says gently, careful not to spook the man, “May I join you?”

George shrugs. It is not an invitation, but it is not a direct refusal either. Phil lets himself flop on the ground next to him. The night is incredibly quiet; Phil tries to listen for the sound of the crickets, but he cannot hear any. There are no monsters near them either. Sapnap did a great job securing the house and its surrounding area.

“Lovely night,” he comments, for lack of anything better to say. George shrugs but does not respond. His head is tilted back, and his eyes stare directly at the sky. Phil isn’t sure if George is ignoring him or if he is actually looking at the stars. He tries to act as though it were the latter option.

“The stars are very bright,” he states, “Props of living on a mountain, I guess.” George hums to acknowledge his words but he stays completely mute. For a moment, Phil thinks of simply standing up and leaving. It doesn’t look like the other man wants to interact in any way.

But George hasn’t ordered him to leave yet; he hasn’t given him the angry and accusatory look Phil has gotten so used to. So he stays.

“I learned all the constellations when I was younger,” he says lightly. George shifts a little, showing that he is paying attention. “I taught myself how to navigate with the stars.” The other man glances at him – at his wings – before looking back to the sky.

“So you flew by night?” Phil shrugs – tries to treat the first words George has pronounced toward him as completely normal.

“Yes, mostly,” he responds, “It was safer that way. The monsters are on the land. And sleeping during the day is not too bad once you get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t know,” George says, and there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice, “I never traveled solo. Sapnap or Dream were always here to keep me safe.”

“Keep you safe?” Phil asks gently. He doesn’t want to probe, but he also feels like George wouldn’t have brought up the topic if he didn’t want him to. George shrugs and the same rancor is present in his voice when he responds:

“They don’t trust me to protect myself. You’ve seen how Sap acts, haven’t you?” Phil hesitates.

“I figured that he cares about you.” George scoffs.

“Yeah, ‘cares’. Treats me like a bloody child is what it is.” He sighs, “It’s not as bad as Dream, though. Dream treats me like I’m some kind of fragile  _ thing _ that he’s got to keep in some glass container, shielded from literally everything.”

Phil isn’t sure what to respond. On the one hand, it feels like George might be right. Judging by Dream’s words, it does seem that the deity was completely focused on protecting his friend – even against his own wishes. On the other hand, Phil cannot help but empathize with Dream, who would sacrifice a friendship to keep a friend safe.

He isn’t sure what to tell George, so he says nothing. He doesn’t need to, though, because George has a lot on his heart. The man continues speaking:

“I know you’re here on his behalf,” he says. Phil freezes and carefully observe George from the corner of his eye. The male hasn’t moved; he is still staring at the stars.

“Oh?”

“I’m not dumb. Sap knows too; he is just too busy hiding from the truth, so he won’t say anything.” Phil opens his mouth and George shakes his head. “Don’t,” he says, “I don’t want to hear it.”

There’s some pain in his voice, but mostly an extreme weariness. Phil suddenly feels for the man who has lost an entire kingdom and his God in the same fateful evening. Who has reduced himself to living in a minuscule safe house, away from the land he used to rule, with only one man remaining as his loyal subject – as his friend. Phil says nothing.

“What did he tell you?” George asks (it’s not a question). “That we were the most important thing to him? That he couldn’t bear to lose us?” He is quiet for a second before he visibly notices the tension in Phil’s shoulders. “No… He didn’t mention Sap, did he? It was just me.”

Phil gives a strained nod and George laughs. It’s a mirthless laugh from a man who has lost so much.

“I hate him,” George spits after a moment. “I hate that I miss him…” Phil notices a movement beside him. George has buried his face in his hands. He hesitates before he lets his paternal instincts take over and he gently reaches out, putting a comforting hand on George’s back. The man tenses for a moment before he relaxes, letting Phil wrap a wing around him. They stay quiet for a long time.

“It’s going to be okay, mate,” Phil eventually says, in the lack of any actual reassurance to offer. George laughs wetly.

“I don’t know if it will, but I don’t have a bloody choice in the matter, do I?” He looks at Phil and the resentment in his eyes is almost fully replaced by the weariness from earlier. “He never lets me decide.”

He shakes Phil’s wing off, and the moment is over. George stands up and wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Stay or leave, I don’t care,” he declares, “You don’t have to protect me. I don’t care.” He looks up to the sky. “He’ll know if you don’t, though.”

There’s a beat of silence and Phil isn’t sure what to say. George shrugs.

“You can stay,” he eventually decides. “Just- I’m not doing it for him, okay?” Phil nods.

“Okay,” he replies, because that’s the only thing there is to say, “It’s not for him.”

“Good.”

They exchange another look and there’s a certain sense of understanding between them. It’s not peace – it probably never will be, not with everything Phil represents in George's eyes – but it’s the next best thing.

George doesn’t say another word and he walks back into the house.

Phil stays outside and he stares at the stars. The crickets start singing again.


	10. Technoblade, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is ridiculous,” Phil tries again, “George has nothing to do with this…”  
> Techno shrugs and his grasp on the sword becomes a bit tighter. The fear in George’s eyes threatens to make a dam break within Phil.  
> “He does,” Techno says, his eyes not leaving George’s. It feels like Phil is a spectator of the scene rather than an actor. “Dream took something very important from me. This is revenge.” Phil widens his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, well I hope you all enjoyed the low Hurt rate of last chapter, because we are BACK in Angst territory! (Yayyyyy)
> 
> Surely Phil's babysitting mission wasn't going to be that easy. Dream did say that there was a threat to George's safety, and Phil isn't going to be happy with who this threat is :))
> 
> Enjoy!!

Phil stares at his son and he doesn’t understand.

Or rather, he doesn’t want to understand.

He doesn’t want to understand the way his son is holding a sword, pointing its tip to George’s neck. George breathes a little too harshly and one pearl of blood rolls down.

Phil stands at the entrance of the room and stares. Sapnap had gone a few hours ago, promising to come back with ‘some good fucking food for a change.’ It is just him and George in the safe house. And Techno.

Phil forgets how to breathe.

It is George’s panicked eyes that bring him back to his senses.

“Techno,” he calls, and he sees the way his son tenses at the sound of his voice – as if he hadn’t planned for him to be there. Of course, he hadn’t. How would he have planned for that twist of fate? “Techno, what are you doing?”

“Getting my revenge,” the man grunts, “Phil. Leave.”

Phil doesn’t. He takes a step closer. Nightmare weighs heavier and heavier on his belt.

“He isn’t government anymore,” he says, trying to reason with his son, “He isn’t your target.”

There’s a smile – a crazy smile, much like Wilbur’s in his final days – and Techno laughs.

“Oh, but he is.” George swallows heavily and Techno snarls at him. “Careful, little prince. Wouldn’t want my sword to come in contact with that pale neck of yours.”

“Techno,” Phil insists, taking another step forward, “Techno, leave him alone.”

Techno doesn’t, and Phil’s fingers brush against Nightmare’s hilt. It feels as if they were burnt by the simple contact. Where is Sapnap? He should be back already

“This is ridiculous,” he tries again, “George has nothing to do with this…”

Techno shrugs and his grasp on the sword becomes a bit tighter. The fear in George’s eyes threatens to make a dam break within Phil.

“He does,” Techno says, his eyes not leaving George’s. It feels like Phil is a spectator of the scene rather than an actor. “Dream took something very important from me. This is revenge.” Phil widens his eyes.

“George has done nothing wrong,” he begs. Nightmare feels hot – burning – on his side, but Phil cannot make himself take arms against his own son.

“Neither had Tommy,” Techno growls, and Phil feels like he might faint. He feels dizzy and like he is suffocating.

“Techno-” he pleads.

“Leave, Phil,” the Piglin orders, his voice firm and unwavering. Then, there’s a hint of pity as he continues: “I don’t want you to see this.”

There’s a flash of green at the window and Nightmare is suddenly in his hands. It feels heavy, but not as heavy as it had in its sheath. Phil’s wings spread of their own accord and he takes a defensive stance, ready for battle.

Techno turns to look at him at the sudden movement and Phil sees a flash of fear in his son’s eyes. It is quickly replaced by the usual cool demeanor.

“Phil,” he says calmly, “You really don’t want to do that.” He moves his sword away from George’s neck and holds it tightly, ready to parry. On the corner of his eyes, Phil sees George take a few steps back until his back meets the wall. ‘I’ll keep you safe,’ Phil wants to say, ‘I promise.’

But he made the same promises to his son, moons ago, when he’d first held the Piglin child in his arms.

“I don’t,” he agrees with a nervous chuckle. Nightmare is burning through his palm. “Techno, let’s talk about this.”

Techno laughs and shakes his head.

“I don’t think that there is much to speak about,  _ dad _ ,” he says, and Phil almost lets go of the sword at the name. Techno never calls him that. He doesn’t like to be reminded of their age difference or of the fact that Phil took him under his wing – metaphorically and literally – when they first met in the Nether. The name burns almost as much as Nightmare does.

“Techno,” he tries – he needs to talk to his son, he needs to make him see reason, “Techno, I don’t want to hurt you.”

The Piglin’s eyes flash with  _ something _ . Phil wishes he could say what.

“Then don’t,” he says, his voice almost soft (almost like a plea), “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I can’t let you hurt George,” he breathes out, teeth gritted together, jaw clenched.

“Then it seems that you’ve made a decision. And that we’re in an impasse,” Techno states. He raises his sword a bit higher, and so does Phil.

A beat.

Neither of them wants to throw the first hit. Phil would rather die than hurt his son - his best friend, and he sees in Techno’s eyes that the Piglin feels the same way.

Still, they face each other, not abandoning their defensive stance, swords ready to clash.

Phil tries to communicate through his eyes only, tries to tell Techno every word that he cannot pronounce.

“What the fuck is happening?”

There is Sapnap. The boy’s eyes search for George and, when he sees him, he lets out another curse.

“What the fuck?” he repeats. He stares at Techno and Phil, both frozen in their fighting stance. “What the actual fuck?”

Phil lowers his sword.

“Sapnap-”

“Don’t,” the boy orders immediately. He only has eyes for George now. “Are you hurt?”

His friend shakes his head, but his face is too pale to really serve as reassurance. Sapnap is by his side in a matter of seconds, inspecting him worriedly. He sees the small red line that was formed when a drop of blood rolled down on George’s pale neck, and he looks back up to the two warriors, his eyes shining with fury.

“Who?” he asks, his voice cold with rage. Phil is reminded that Sapnap was Dream’s right-hand man, and he recalls Tommy talking about the man’s dangerous smile and crazy laugh as the forest burnt down around them. Techno is not intimidated, though.

“Me,” he drawls, “You can thank Phil. He saved your buddy’s life.” Sapnap’s eyes shift to Phil for a second, confused and dumbfounded. They refocus on Techno pretty quickly, though. He is the threat.

“Leave,” Sapnap orders, “Leave now, and I won’t follow. Leave now and I won’t track you down.”

Techno goes to make a comment, potentially to taunt Sapnap, to invite him to spar with him, to suggest that he  _ tries _ . Phil presses his free hand to his son’s shoulder, interrupting him before he can begin. His other hand is still gripping Nightmare tightly.

“Techno,” he says very gently, the way he used to do when he helped his son with the voices that plagued him, “Techno, go now.”

“Phil–”

Phil refuses to look into his son’s betrayed eyes. He removes his hand from the Piglin’s shoulder and uses it to hold the hilt of the sword with two hands. He stares ahead (not at Techno’s eyes, not at Techno’s face).

He is the Angel of Death.

“Leave.”

He hears movements around him, but he cannot tell what’s happening. His heart is beating too loudly in his ears and his breath is too sharp.

His son’s gone. He cannot see it, but he can sense it.

His grip on Nightmare is deadly.

Eventually – he isn’t sure if it’s seconds or years after – he feels a hand on his shoulder. George.

“This fell,” he says, and he hands Phil a black feather. One of his own.

Phil focuses on it, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His wings have never lost a single feather. Ever. There’s writing on that feather, though. Some green letters that shine and twinkle and disappear as soon as he’s read them. As if he has just dreamed them.

_ Tomorrow at dawn _ , the letters say,  _ Final Control Room _ .


	11. Technoblade, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L’Manberg is burning below him, slowly becoming nothing but ashes, nothing but the memory of a nation. Phil hears distantly the screams under him.  
> “Phil!” Tubbo shouts from the water where they’ve all taken refuge, “Phil, please!” He’s trying to call to his humanity, to his pity. He is calling the wrong name, though.  
> Wings spread and eyes crazy, this is not Phil who is wreaking havoc to their nation.  
> He is the Angel of Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy!! Posting this chapter from the car, just so y'all can get the update around the regular time and not houurs later.   
> Hopefully this doesn't affect the formatting too much. I've went in and made sure that everything Looks right, but I'm still a bit concerned.
> 
> I am so hyped to see what you guys think about this chapter!! Your reactions at Chapter 10 and the Phil-Techno confrontation were so wonderful to read!! I really hope this chapter will live up to the previous one :))
> 
> See you in the end notes for another small comment on the plot!
> 
> Enjoy!

The sound of explosions is deafening.

Phil almost can’t hear his own thoughts as the world crumbles around him. There’s fire, there’s TNT, and there’s Withers floating around the ruins of what used to be a city-state.

The one his sons built.

The one that destroyed his sons.

Phil feels nothing but vindicated satisfaction as he flies around, watching the world burn. Every few minutes, he lights some TNT and drops it from the sky.

He remembers Dream handing it out to him. He remembers his confused stupefaction. He remembers the God telling him that he deserves revenge on the land that took his sons. He remembers the gentle hand in his hair, so much gentler that the words of violence that were pronounced between them.

He lands on the roof of what used to be his house – his prison – and he summons another creature of destruction. The Wither’s eyes shine with fury and it flies away towards its purpose. Phil knows that Dream is controlling them – somehow – because they never even think to attack him. Phil takes flight again, and looks down to his masterpiece.

_ “Take this,” Dream had said quietly, gently. And he had handed Phil the materials he needed to take an entire city-state by storm. _

_ “I don’t understand-” Phil had whispered, “I- George-” _

_ “George will be safe,” the God had hushed softly, “And I think that you do, Philza. I think that you understand perfectly.” His voice had filled with pity and kindness as he had continued: “I think that you need it.” _

_ “Dream-” _

L’Manberg is burning below him, slowly becoming nothing but ashes, nothing but the memory of a nation. Phil hears distantly the screams under him.

“Phil!” Tubbo shouts from the water where they’ve all taken refuge, “Phil, please!” He’s trying to call to his humanity, to his pity. He is calling the wrong name, though.

Wings spread and eyes crazy, this is not Phil who is wreaking havoc to their nation.

He is the Angel of Death.

They scream in terror as a column crumbles and threatens to crush them all. Phil flies a little higher. They dodge the column, which falls heavily into the water, and they stop pleading for his help. Instead, they start retreating, running away from the destruction he is causing.

Phil knows that he is responsible for it all. He is destroying the nation that destroyed his sons.

Dream had helped him, of course, but, like Wilbur had been the one to choose to press the button, Phil has chosen to execute the God’s plans. He had been given a choice.

_ “Am I asking too much?” Dream had asked, gentle and concerned, and he’d taken a step away from Phil, “Am I pushing you too far, Phil?” _

_ Phil had shaken his head and he’d leaned in, subconsciously seeking comfort from the God. _

_ “I just- I don’t know…” he’d whispered, “They built it… It was Will’s last creation…” _

_ “Will’s last action was to destroy it,” Dream had reminded him in a kind voice, “You would remember that more than anyone, wouldn’t you?” _

_ Phil had hunched forward, hurt and broken at the simple mention of the moment that haunted his nightmares. He let out a pathetic whine that had the God come forward, gently threading his finger in the mortal’s hair. _

_ “They exiled Tommy,” he had continued, “They tried to execute Technoblade.” _

_ Oh Gods, Techno. _

_ Techno who didn’t understand, Techno who had looked at him like he had betrayed him, Techno whom he had almost fought. _

Techno who stares up to him from the ruins of L’Manberg, his eyes full of incomprehension.

“Phil,” he breathes, and his voice is so much lower than the explosions, but the wind carries it to Phil anyway.

Phil lands on the remainders of a house – or was it a stand? Maybe it was the musical stand where Ghostbur had played him some songs – and he stares at his son, below him, in the crater.

“Techno,” he says, there’s a smile on his face, he can feel his lips curve upwards, but he isn’t certain if he is happy. He isn’t in touch with his emotions anymore. Not since L’Manberg has started burning.

He isn’t sure if he even feels satisfaction as the city crumbles around him. There’s nothing in his chest. It’s all empty.

At least he doesn’t feel the grief that had been eating him up from the inside anymore.

“What are you doing?”

Phil shrugs and his wings move with him. They’re darker than he remembers them, but it must be from the ashes and the soot.

“I thought that it would be obvious,” he says, raising an eyebrow. Techno laughs, incredulous.

“It is-” he says, “What isn’t is– Phil, what happened?”

Phil shrugs again, and he barely feels any pain when he responds:

“L’Manberg took my sons. It tried to take you, too.”

Techno shakes his head, and he looks at Phil like he has become mad. Phil doesn’t understand why. Techno had been the one talking about the evils of government. About wanting to destroy L’Manberg once and for all. About power corrupting those who have it.

Phil has power, right now. He has been given power from a God, and he will use it to make sure that his family can never be hurt again.

Techno looks hurt, though. His eyes are shining with uncertainty and one of his hands is reaching for his sword.

“Join me,” Phil calls, “You wanted to destroy L’Manberg, didn’t you?” Techno shakes his head disbelievingly.

“No,” he says, “Not like this. Not for  _ him _ .”

“Him? What Dream wants doesn’t matter, Techno,” Phil responds, “I’m getting revenge. I’m avenging them! And he is helping me!” Techno shakes his head again.

“You’ve gone crazy,” he growls.

“Have I?” Phil asks, “Or am I just grieving my sons?”

“This is not-” Techno laughs disbelievingly, “This is not the right way to grieve!”

Phil frowns. (The Angel of Death frowns).

“If you’re not going to help me,” he states coldly, “Leave.”

Techno stares at him as if he’d been struck.

“Phil?”

“I am not stopping until there is nothing left of this place,” Phil says, “It killed my sons and so it deserves to disappear.” He looks at Techno. “If you’re not going to join me, leave now.”

Techno stares at him and there’s something conflicted in his eyes. His ears move frantically, as if he were under a very high amount of stress, and he looks to the L’Manbergians who are running away from the town. Techno’s hand reaches to his sword.

“No.”

It has come to this. 

Phil stares at his son in the rubbles of L’Manberg. He looks strong – as strong as he’s always been, as threatening, as  _ deadly _ , and yet he seems so small. He is Phil’s son. The one he has sworn to protect.

The Angel of Death stares at the Piglin who dares oppose him and laughs.

“You can’t, Techno,” he says quietly, almost chiding, “We’ve seen it with George. You won’t attack me, and I won’t attack you.” He looks around at the destruction, at the fire crackling and devouring the foundations of the city. “If you don’t want to see L’Manberg fall, then leave.”

“No.”

The Angel of Death raises an eyebrow.

“No?” he repeats, “Techno, you’re being unreasonable. I’m giving you an out.”

“I won’t take it,” the Piglin growls. There’s a flash of pain in his eyes. “I want my father back.”

Phil freezes at the words and he opens his mouth to reply. He doesn’t get the chance, though. In an instant, Techno is on him, trident in one hand and sword in the other. Nightmare is in front of Phil before even thinks of moving his arm and it blocks Techno’s hit with a loud metallic sound.

It has come to  _ this _ .

Techno snarls.

“Is he helping you with this too?” he growls, swinging his sword once again and Phil jumps to dodge. He flaps his wings a few times and lands back on a column. It swings a little under his weight, but it is still stable enough to support him.

It’s not stable enough to support the both of them, though, and when Techno jumps after him, the column crumbles and falls loudly into the water. Phil flies off and Techno rolls down. The water cushions the Piglin’s fall and Phil sees the trident shine before Techno is back in the air, facing him.

Nightmare moves of its own accord and comes to brush Techno’s cheek. A thin red line appears on the right side of his face and the Piglin  _ roars _ . Phil has the presence of mind to parry before a sword strikes toward his chest, followed by Techno who throws all his weight behind it.

Techno precipitates him down, and Phil’s wings are not enough to break both of their fall. They instinctively wrap around his son in a protective manner, and Phil moans when his back hits the ground – when he slams into it. Techno rolls away to rearm himself while Phil stands back up.

His muscles are shaking with exhaustion. Techno is a formidable opponent – the most potent one he has ever faced, in fact. They’ve talked about it, sometimes, about who would win if they had to face each other. They’d never found an answer.

He guesses that they will find out now.

He doesn’t give Techno the time to breathe and rushes back toward him, Nightmare in hand. Techno analyses his steps rapidly, though, always the battle strategist, and he is ready to block the strike before Phil realizes this is what he was going for. The swords clash again.

The duel changes at that moment – they are both back on land, on dry ground, and though the world is crumbling around them, they are both used to fighting in these conditions. They are both expert swordsmen and they come at each other in something that is closer to a dance than a real fight. They swing, they parry, they pivot and dance around each other, all in unison, both minds working as one and creating a formidable duet.

The dance breaks when Techno makes one small mistake. He looks up to Phil’s eyes for a second, searching for the kind man instead of the Angel of Death. Phil takes advantage and strikes. Techno’s sword clanks against the ground and he is forced to retreat rapidly, until his back hits the wall. Phil points the tip of his sword to his neck.

They stop moving, both panting, the exertion of the fight clear in the way their chests heave rapidly. Techno stares into his eyes.

“You’re gonna kill me, Phil?” he asks slowly. Phil doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t move Nightmare from Techno’s neck, but his hold weakens ever so slightly. Not enough for Techno to do anything about it, but, judging by the way the Piglin’s eyes glance very briefly at his hand, he is aware of it.

“I don’t-”

“You don’t know?” Techno interrupts, “Figured you would, after you put your all in the fight…” Phil shakes his head, his eyes not leaving his son’s. “So what will you do afterward?” Techno continues, voice way too calm, “After you’ve killed me? Will you leave my body here and let it be destroyed with the rest of L’Manberg?”

“Techno, I don’t-”

“You gotta make a decision, Phil,” the Piglin presses, “Dream won’t be happy if you’re off-schedule.”

The mention of the God sends a shiver running down Phil’s spine – of fear or anger, he isn’t really sure. He holds Nightmare a little tighter, a little closer to Techno’s throat. The Piglin chuckles.

“You’re really gonna do it?”

His voice is relaxed, his tone unchanged, the drawl still present as he speaks. As if he didn’t have a blade brushing against his neck. For anyone else, Technoblade is the perfect picture of calm. For anyone but Phil. He notices the imperceptible tremor in his voice, sees the way his eyes twitch very lightly, and recognizes the way Techno keeps his fists closed to prevent his hands from shaking.

His son is afraid.

His  _ son _ is afraid.

His son–

What is he doing?

Phil moves away, Nightmare falling out of his hands as if it had burnt him. He is choking, gasping for breath. He almost– He almost killed his son.

He almost sliced his son’s throat.

He almost repeated the mistake he made months ago, and he almost lost another son.

His hands reach for his mouth and he holds them to it. He feels like he is going to be sick.

He promised that he would save Techno, that he would keep his son safe, that he would prevent L’Manberg from hurting him every again and, in the process, he almost took his son’s life.

He almost killed Techno to protect Techno.

The absurdity of the situation hits him and he feels  _ sick _ .

His knees give up and he lets himself hit the ground. He dry-heaves onto the rocks and, out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the Piglin move around him, quiet. He hears metal scrap against the ground as a sword is picked up.

When his body stops shaking, he makes himself turn his head and look toward his son.

“Techno-”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish. He sees Techno’s grim expression and then the flat side of his sword is brought to his head.

There’s a sharp pain, and then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaahh, I'm so excited we finally got there!! When I started writing the fic, the first chapter and this chapter were the two scenes that were fully clear in my mind. 
> 
> This is the whole reason I refer to the fic as "Pheral." I just wanted Phil going feral and destroying L'Manberg out of pure grief and anger. It was also something that I planned before Doomsday even happened. Then Doomsday happened, and when I got to writing this chapter, I did take some inspiration from it. Basically an alternative Doomsday where Techno was not invited :)
> 
> I'm really excited to see what y'all thought of the fight!
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	12. Tommy, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hears footsteps coming up the ladder. They’re low and hesitant and way too light to be Techno’s.  
> Phil wonders for a second if it could be Ghostbur. He isn’t certain whether his late son chooses to walk or float or whether there is any rhyme or reason to it all.  
> And then he hears the quiet voice.  
> “Dad?”  
> Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Apologies for the late update. I thought that updating after Karl's stream would be a good bet, but it ended up lasting wayyyy longer than usual.
> 
> Brain pretty empty- no ideas for notes. Two things though:  
> (1) I am so excited to see what you all think from this chapter. I think you all have been waiting for it for a whiiiile, and hopefully seeing the chapter and the title summary made you excited :)  
> (2) I finally finished the other fic I have been working on. I have started working on editing it, and I am so incredibly excited to tell you all more about it and start publishing it once Pheral is over :))
> 
> Enjoy!!

Phil wakes up and the first thing that he notices is the pain.

Everything hurts.

Most of all: the back of his head.

The light assaults him when he opens his eyes, and he lets out a whine, clenching them back shut. He hears some movement around the room and forces himself to open his eyes again. Everything’s blurred but Phil notices the spruce walls. He is in the cabin. With Techno.

The footsteps come closer and his son is in front of him. Phil watches warily as the Piglin shifts a little before shoving a hand in front of his face. Phil blinks a few times, noticing the raised fingers. He opens his mouth. It feels furred and dry, and Phil is certain that it also smells terrible.

“Three,” he mumbles.

His own voice seems to resonate, and Phil clenches his eyes shut again, bringing a shaky hand to his temple. His head is _pounding_.

He hears a low rumble of a voice and he figures that Techno is talking to him. He cannot focus on the words though, and he tries to shake his head to show that he cannot hear him. The rumble ceases but there’s a hand on his shoulder, warm and heavy. He shakes it off and the voice starts again, a bit more urgent this time.

His ears are ringing. How is he supposed to focus on the voice when his ears are ringing and his head is pounding?

The voice quietens again, and the steps move farther and farther away. Phil breathes.

He tries to sit up and immediately feels sick. He brings a hand to his mouth and sits like that for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath. When he feels like he can control his body again, Phil opens his eyes, shakily leaving the bed. He takes one step away before the entire world starts spinning around him. He tries to grab onto the bed frame, but he feels his legs give up under him.

Techno must have been alerted by the sound of his fall because he is back in a second, hands grabbing at him in a gentle but firm manner. Phil whines but doesn’t fight it when Techno gently picks him up – when did his son get so strong? – and settles him back on the bed.

Techno moves the blankets around, carefully setting them back on Phil’s lap. There’s tenderness in his movements and Phil somehow feels like crying.

How is Techno so gentle and so tender after everything? After he almost killed him?

“Hey,” Techno says softly, “Hey, open your mouth.”

Phil doesn’t fight it. he opens his mouth and there’s something cold pressed against his lips. He drinks. He feels the tingle of a potion against his tongue and he decides to simply trust Techno. He swallows.

He feels tired again and Techno’s arms gently reach up to his shoulders. They push until his back hits the pillows. And then they push a little more, moving him into a laying position.

“Rest,” Phil hears. The voice is so gentle, so full of kindness and concern. “Rest. You’re safe.”

Phil rests.

* * *

When Phil wakes up, a few hours later, he can think a little clearer. His head still hurts but at least he can hear himself think.

Techno took care of him. Techno carried him back all the way from L’Manberg and laid him down on his bed and watched over him until he woke up.

And Phil had tried to kill him.

He takes his head in his hands and whines.

He fucked up. He really fucked up. He doesn’t understand how this all happened. He had wanted to protect Techno, not _hurt_ him. How did things get to this? How did he confuse his wish for revenge with his need to protect his son? How did those two get mixed up?

Had he really let Dream convince him that destroying L’Manberg was his end goal?

His migraine is back, but this time Phil knows that it is not because of the concussion.

He hears footsteps coming up the ladder. They’re low and hesitant and way too light to be Techno’s.

Phil wonders for a second if it could be Ghostbur. He isn’t certain whether his late son chooses to walk or float or whether there is any rhyme or reason to it all.

And then he hears the quiet voice.

“Dad?”

Tommy.

Tommy.

It’s Tommy.

It’s Tommy, but Tommy’s dead. Phil’s eyes open so incredibly fast and he completely ignores the pain to focus on his son.

His face is pale – too pale – and emaciated and the bags under his eyes are so dark and deep. He looks older than he had a few months ago, and yet so young, so fragile. Phil shakes in his bed.

“Tommy?” he asks, his voice so low, so hesitant, as if speaking his son’s name would break the curse.

“Hey, Phil,” the apparition – it has to be an apparition – responds, “You’re up.” He shifts where he stands, seemingly hesitant. This is so far from Tommy’s usual behavior. Phil would have expected him to be loud and boisterous and _demand_ that he leaves the bed. “Techno told me to come check on you.”

They look at each other for what seems like an eternity and is yet an impossibly short time. Tommy’s eyes are so dull. When have they faded so much? Tommy breaks the eye contact and looks to the floor.

“I should- I’m gonna tell him you woke up,” he says, pointing at the ladders behind him.

“Wait!”

Tommy freezes at the shout and his entire body tenses up. Phil doesn’t know whether to feel worried or guilty.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, his tone much lower, “I just…” He reaches one hand out of the bed, “Can I touch you?”

There’s something akin to fear in Tommy’s eyes. He looks like he is about to bolt if Phil pronounces another word or make another movement. It’s weird. Phil had always thought that Tommy would choose fight rather than flight.

“Techno says you destroyed L’Manberg,” his son says slowly, “He says you’re unstable and to come get him if you wake up.”

Phil makes a miserable attempt at an apologetic smile. It fades very quickly when he sees actual fear flash in Tommy’s eyes.

“You were dead,” he states, as if it explains it all, “I cried on your grave.”

Tommy looks shellshocked.

“What?”

There’s a beat of silence. Phil wonders how much Techno has told Tommy – how long Tommy has been with him, how long Techno had known. He has told him about L’Manberg, clearly. He has told him about one of Phil’s worst mistakes. He has told him that Phil let his own wish for revenge overtake his duty to protect his son.

And he’s told him that Phil is unstable. Maybe dangerous.

Phil tries not to feel hurt, tries to tell himself that Techno is not _wrong_. He almost killed his own child back there. He had pointed a sword to Techno’s neck and thought about slicing his throat.

He feels sick again.

“Phil?” Tommy calls, demanding his attention, “My grave?”

He sounds a little hysterical and Phil cannot blame him. He would also be shocked if he learned that he had been declared dead by everyone he knew. Hell, Phil feels hysterical, because his son is standing in front of him, pale and sickly but _alive_.

“Tommy,” he says again – it’s like a prayer – “Can I touch you?”

He needs to know that his son is breathing, he needs to feel his pulse, he needs to hear his heart beating.

Tommy visibly hesitates. He looks toward the ladders – toward where Techno is, and there’s still this hint of fear in his eyes. Still, he takes a step toward Phil. And another. And another. He stops before long, but he is close enough for Phil to take his hand.

Have Tommy’s hands always been so callused? Has he always had this myriad of little scars covering his fingers? Have his nails always been so dirty and broken at points? Phil isn’t sure. What he knows, though, what he relishes, is that Tommy’s hand is warm and real.

“Tommy,” he whispers, “Tommy… My son… My son…”

It’s like a prayer coming from his lips. Don’t take this away from me, he wants to say. Don’t take my son. Let me keep him.

He cries and Tommy looks completely dumbfounded.

“Phil?” he asks, his tone so full of uncertainty, “Phil, big man? Do you- Should I call Techno?”

Phil shakes his head and he holds Tommy’s hand a bit tighter. Not enough to spook him but just enough to indicate that he needs Tommy’s presence.

There’s a conflicted expression on Tommy’s face and the boy looks back and forth between Phil’s face and their hands. Eventually, he looks back up at Phil’s face and he gives a small determined nod.

“Fuck Techno,” he mumbles before he moves, huddling to Phil’s chest and letting his father close his arms on him.

Phil wraps his arms around his son – his child, _his boy_ – and he sobs harder. He presses his head into Tommy’s rough curls, and he _cries_.

Tommy doesn’t do much to console him but he’s there, his own hands holding onto Phil's shirt. His chest heaves slowly, real, and _alive_ , and Phil cries.

After what seems like hours, Phil pulls away, giving Tommy a nervous smile.

“Sorry,” he says, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He chuckles. “Bet seeing your old man cry was not what you needed today, was it?”

Tommy looks at him and there’s something like pity and concern in his eyes. Tommy shouldn’t look so serious, Phil thinks, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Tommy shifts uneasily, unsure what to do with his hands now that he isn’t holding Phil anymore.

“Do you- Do you feel better, dad?” he asks, and Phil almost starts crying again because this is his _son_ . His baby boy. And he is calling him dad, and he is _alive_.

“So much better,” he says, and he reaches for Tommy’s cheek. “You’re here.”

Tommy goes to say something, but they’re interrupted by Techno’s drawl.

“Hey, Toms? You’ve been up here for a while, do you need-”

Techno cuts off when he sees the scene. His hand moves to his belt instinctively and his fingers close against the air. He doesn’t have his sword. Of course, he doesn’t. They’re in the cabin.

“Techno,” Phil says slowly, trying to calm his son down, trying to extinguish the furious flame in his eyes, “He is safe. I promise.”

Techno lets out a small grunt and he doesn’t look away from Phil’s eyes for a second.

“Toms,” he says very calmly, “Toms, come here.”

Tommy looks at Phil, clearly conflicted, before he steps away. Techno grabs him as soon as he is within reach. Phil tries not to feel hurt. He tries to focus on Techno protecting his brother and on the incredible progress that this represents.

He just wishes Techno wasn’t protecting Tommy from _him_.

“How do you feel?” Techno asks once Tommy is secure. There’s genuine concern in his voice and it gives Phil a hint of hope. “I gave you a mean concussion, didn’t I?”

Phil lets out a dry laugh.

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, you could say that.” He shrugs. “I feel pretty dizzy. Head hurts.”

“No shit,” Techno deadpans, but he moves to grab a vial from the shelves and hand it to Phil. Phil gives him a grateful nod and gulps down the potion.

Tommy looks between them, still looking confused. Hesitant.

“What happened?” he asks, “Really?”

Techno meets his eyes and there’s a question in his gaze. How much can he say? How much _should_ he say? Can he say anything at all?

Phil shrugs. Techno told him that he destroyed L’Manberg and that he was ‘unstable’, hasn’t he? Is that all he said? Had he dropped that on Tommy and refused to give any more explanation?

“I…” He hesitates. His mouth feels dry. “I think I lost it a little bit.”

Techno snorts.

“A little bit,” he repeats. Phil closes his eyes and he gives a guilty smile.

“A lot,” he amends. “A lot.”

Tommy’s eyes are so full of uncertainty.

“Dad, what did you do?” he insists. Phil sighs.

“I destroyed L’Manberg,” he says, “I tried-” He closes his eyes, “I almost killed Techno.”

Tommy gasps and he turns back to Techno, who gives a grim nod.

"Don't worry," he says, voice gruff, the way it always is when Techno tries to hide how much he cares, "I beat his senses back into him."

Tommy stares between the two of them.

"Is that why he is…" He gestures towards the bed. Techno smirks - but there's a hint of guilt in the smile. Phil knows that the Piglin had hated fighting him.

"Yeah," Techno says, "Told you. I got him back."

Tommy seems a little hesitant and his eyes dart between his father and his brother. He’s tense – as tense as the atmosphere in the room, but he eventually lets out a small laugh. Phil recognizes the forced laugh. It’s the one Tommy always fakes when a situation is too charged for him and he attempts to soothe it through humor.

“So you almost got owned by an old man?” he asks Techno. The Piglin lets out an indignant huff.

“I won this fight,” he states, crossing his arms.

“But you almost lost!” Tommy teases, “Technoblade almost died!”

Techno reaches for him. He grabs him under his elbow, and ruffles his hair, and Tommy shrieks but it’s not out of fear. He laughs, and Phil’s heart feels lighter.

He’s got good sons.

He relaxes in the bed while Techno busies himself with winning his ‘fight’ against his younger brother. Tommy is screaming obscenities but they’re both too fond to say anything. When Tommy eventually admits defeat (or at least stops struggling), Techno sends him back downstairs, to get some food for Phil.

“But-” Tommy starts. Techno stares, and there’s some firmness in his eyes that makes Tommy close his mouth and obeys. He hurries down the ladders.

Phil tenses back and he looks at Techno. There is a world of unsaid between them. How long was Tommy there? Had Techno known all this time? Had he lied to Phil?

Did Phil truly carry out Dream’s orders? What else had the God asked of him? Would he have gone through with it all, if Techno hadn’t brought him back to his senses?

There’s so much they need to say, and so little that Phil wants to say.

He feels so incredibly ashamed.

Techno must catch that, though, because he relaxes his postures and he gives Phil a hesitant smile

“Later,” he says, “Later, okay? You focus on feeling better.”

Phil nods, and the gratefulness in his chest almost overwhelms him. He feels like he is going to cry. Techno probably sees it, because he takes a few steps closer and he reaches out to Phil. Phil closes his eyes, but he feels Techno’s large hand cover his cheek.

“You’re safe,” he whispers, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you back.” Phi sobs silently and Techno moves to hold him.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats. “We’ll fix this all later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed!!
> 
> Also, incredible thanks to my wife who listed concussion symptoms to me while I was writing this chapter. Sometimes having nursing knowledge on hand is incredible :))
> 
> Oh, and enjoy the Comfort while you can :)


	13. Dream, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With hindsight, he shouldn’t have told him, but Phil doesn’t think about prudence. He thinks about the relief he’s felt when he found out that his son was alive. He thinks about how right it had felt to hold Tommy in his arms. He thinks about how much Dream has supported him, all this time.  
> “Dream-” he says again. “Tommy’s alive.”  
> The God’s head snaps toward him.  
> “He what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> I'm going to keep the beginning notes short because you probably read the summary and title already, and you most likely want to get to the chapter now. Very excited to see y'all's reactions to it!! I have really looooved all of your feedback on the past few chapters. Hope you all like this one too!
> 
> Enjoy!

‘Later’ doesn’t come soon enough, because the next time Phil awakens, he is on a cliff.

On the cliff.

The wind is blowing through his hair, ruffling his feathers, and playing with his robe. He feels some drops of water reach his face, cold and salty. He listens to the waves as they come crashing on the rocks below, over and over. They don’t learn, he thinks, they appear on the horizon, they grow, and they come crash on the rocks. They repeat the same mistake, again and again.

“Philza,” a voice calls.

Phil turns and it’s Dream. Of course, it’s Dream. The God’s mask hasn’t changed since the last time, and yet Phil feels as though he can read the concern in Dream’s expression. He can hear it too.

“Philza,” he says, “I was so worried. You left for L’Manberg and I couldn’t find you anymore.” He takes a step forward and Phil is frozen on the spot. “They told me that Techno came. That he took you.” He reaches a shaking hand and touches Phil’s cheek. “I couldn’t find you,” he repeats, “They said that Techno had been furious. I came to help you, and I only found Nightmare.” He sounds so concerned, so broken, and Phil feels guilt rip at his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says, not certain what he is apologizing for. Dream shakes his head.

“No, I’m sorry,” he responds, “I should have been with you. I thought… I thought-” He cannot bring himself to finish and, instead, he raises his other hand to cup Phil’s face in his hands.

Phil stares up to the God’s mask, to the unmoving smile, and he doesn’t know what to feel. Dream told him to destroy L’Manberg. He gave him the weapons to do so. He riled him up until he did it. And yet, he is holding him and almost trembling with the relief of having found him alive.

“I was so worried…” Dream says again, and Phil forgets his reserves.

“I’m here,” he says. Dream nods and, after a minute, he lets go of Phil.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “Did he bring you to his cabin?” Phil confirms with a nod.

“I’m fine,” he declares, “I-” The events from the day come back through his mind. The discovery. The realization. The relief. “Dream-” He feels his lips spread into a smile.

With hindsight, he shouldn’t have told him, but Phil doesn’t think about prudence. He thinks about the relief he’s felt when he found out that his son was alive. He thinks about how  _ right _ it had felt to hold Tommy in his arms. He thinks about how much Dream has supported him, all this time.

“Dream-” he says again. “Tommy’s alive.”

The God’s head snaps toward him.

“He what?”

“He’s alive,” Phil says, and he gives Dream a fully relieved smile. “He’s- I held him to my chest. He’s alive, Dream.” He closes his eyes, reminiscing the feeling of holding Tommy against him. “Maybe- Maybe this is why you couldn’t find his body. Maybe he just left… We just all thought that the worst-case scenario had happened.”

Dream shakes his head.

“It can’t be. He can’t be alive.” Phil frowns, confused. Shouldn’t Dream be relieved as well? He had been so gentle and so comforting when he’d told Phil about it all. When he’d encouraged Phil to go to the funeral. When he’d helped him mourn.

“He is,” he says, “I didn’t believe it either, but he is.”

“No, no, he's not. He died. He died in Logstedshire. He was fully run down. He had no will to go on.”

Phil furrows his eyebrows. There’s something strange in Dream’s tone. Something he doesn’t recognize.

“Techno had him,” he explains, “I don't know how long, but I guess Tommy found his cabin, and Techno took care of him.” He gives a nervous chuckle and speaks the thought that's been haunting him. “I told him- I told Techno about the funeral, and he hid him from me.”

“He hid him from  _ us _ .” Dream's voice is firm and Phil's eyes dart back to the God. His posture is tense and his hand is brushing Nightmare’s hilt, as if he were ready for battle.

“Dream?” he calls, uncertain.

The God relaxes immediately at the call of his name. He turns to Phil and shifts his posture into a much calmer one.

“How do you feel about it?” he asks, tilting his head, “About Techno having lied to you…?” Phil shrugs.

“I don’t… I guess he had a reason.” He trusts Techno. Techno wouldn’t lie to him – wouldn’t let him think that his son was dead – without a good reason.

“But did he?” Dream asks, his tone so gentle and concerned. His voice is velvety, so soft. It caresses Phil’s back, sends shivers running down his spine.

“He has to have had a reason,” Phil says, shaking his head. Dream lets out a low sigh. He sounds disappointed but mostly concerned – almost sadly so – and he reaches a hand to gently rub Phil’s back.

“Are you sure?” he asks, “What was that reason, Phil?”

Phil shrugs. He doesn’t know. Why would Techno purposely hide the fact that Tommy was alive? Why would he knowingly let Phil grieve for nothing? Why would he let Phil wallow in pain?

“I don’t know…” he admits slowly. He furrows his eyebrows, desperately trying to put his finger on the element that feels so  _ wrong _ . Why would Techno lie?

“Do you think…” Dream’s voice is quiet. Worried. “Do you think he could have been hurting him?” he asks, “Keeping him captive? Keeping him from his father?” Phil shakes his head immediately.

“No. No. Techno wouldn’t do that.” Dream sighs and he moves his head to face Phil. They cannot make eye contact, but Phil knows that the God is searching his eyes.

“Why would he lie?” he whispers, “Does he not trust you?”

Of course, he does. Of course, Techno trusts Phil. Of course, he-

Does he?

Phil thinks of the way Techno’s body had tensed when he’d learned of the ‘death’ of his brother. He thinks about the way Techno had refused to hear about Dream. He thinks of Techno’s rage at seeing Punz. He thinks of Techno’s roar. He thinks of Techno’s sword coming down and hitting the back of his head.

It doesn’t make sense.

Techno had taken care of him, had held him in his arms, had nursed him back to health. He is still doing so. Phil is supposed to be in his bed, in the cabin.

How did he get here?

Why is he here?

“Phil?” Dream calls gently, “Phil? Why is Techno lying?” Phil takes in a shuddering breath.

“I don’t think he trusts me,” he says. He closes his eyes, but the realization is still as painful when he speaks: “He told Tommy I was unstable.”

Dream hums and he crouches, looking up at Phil. There’s a low buzzing in Phil’s head that prevents him from thinking correctly. He can’t think. His thoughts are so scrambled and  _ wrong _ .

“Are you?” Dream asks, his voice still so kind and free of judgment. It’s far from Techno’s accusatory tone. “Do you think you are?”

“I don’t know!” Phil admits. He buries his face in his hands. He tries to hide his expression of pure confusion and pain. Tries to hide from the world, as if it would make the world hide from him. As if it would make the pain disappear. “I tried to kill Techno…” he says – he chokes on his breath – “I killed Will.”

He can’t breathe now. Every breath he takes is a little shorter, a little more swallow, and his lungs are screaming. It feels so hot – but it shouldn’t because the cold wind is blowing and it’s not even dawn yet, so the sun is not here to warm the earth.

“I don’t know…” he says again – chokes. His voice is high-pitched, and Phil subconsciously realizes that he is panicking, that he is losing touch.

Dream acts almost immediately. Phil hears him stand back up and feels arms around him, holding him tight.

“Shhhh…” the God whispers, “It’s okay…” he says, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

_ I’ve got you _ .

The same words Techno said.

Phil hiccups.

“I can’t hurt him,” he whispers hurriedly, “I can’t hurt him. I can’t hurt them. Don’t let me.”

Dream hushes him gently. There’s a hand in his hair, gently caressing it. The same hand Phil kissed in the control room. The hand that has held him together all this time.

“They’ll be safe,” he promises, still that incredible gentleness in his tone, “I’ll keep them safe. I’ll keep  _ him  _ safe.”

Phil closes his eyes and he lets himself go limp in Dream’s hold. He trusts him. Dream’s a God. Dream will keep them safe.

“Where’s Tommy, Phil?” Dream asks softly, a murmur in Phil’s ears.

Phil shakes his head, furrows his eyebrows. Why is the God asking this? Does he not know?

“With Techno,” he whispers, “In the cabin.” The hand in his hair stills for a second.

“Where?” Dream asks again. “Where is the cabin?” Phil frowns a bit more.

“In the tundra,” he says. His mouth feels dry. There’s something wrong, a detail he has forgotten, but he cannot put the finger on  _ what _ . Dream sighs and his hand moves from Phil’s hair. Phil watches carefully as Dream removes the leather glove and presses three cold fingers to Phil’s forehead.

“Think of it,” he instructs, “Think about the cabin. Tell me where it is.” Phil blinks. He doesn’t understand.

“In the tund-” Dream cuts him off.

“Shh… Think of it. Close your eyes. I’ll hear you.”

Phil does. He thinks of the chimney, he thinks of the comfort of Techno’s bed, he thinks of the small basement Tommy has made into a bedroom, into a safe space. He thinks of warmth and home and belonging.

Dream laughs.

Wait.

Dream laughs.

It’s not a good laugh.

It’s not the gentle chuckle, it’s not the quiet and amused snort.

It’s a bloodcurdling laugh.

“Dream?”

Phil opens his eyes and stares as the God moves away from him.

“That was too easy,” he says and  _ laughs again _ . “Thank you, Angel of Death.”

The smile widens. Phil is certain that the smile widens.

“Dream?” he asks again. He feels real fear now. What has he done?

What has he done?

What has he done?

He remembers the fear and the anger in Techno’s voice. He remembers the constant mistrust. He remembers Techno pointing out the holes in Dream’s story. He remembers Techno’s rage at the realization that Dream was helping him fight.

What has he done?

He remembers Tommy’s emaciated face. He remembers the dullness of his eyes. He remembers the scars littering his hands.

Who had been with him?

Gods.

What has he done?

Dream laughs.

“Wait!” Dream shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think I will,” he says, “I’ve waited long enough. Now, dearest Phil, do one last thing for me.” Phil reaches for his sword, but he doesn’t have the time to use it. “Sleep.”

Everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm...  
> I'm sorry?


	14. Technoblade, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We need to get him back,” Phil says. Techno laughs bitterly and stands up.  
> “Do you know where he is?” he asks. Phil shakes his head.  
> “I will,” Phil growls. He moves to get out of bed and Techno raises a hand to stop him. Phil brushes him off. He knows that he shouldn’t stand, but the adrenaline is running through his veins. He needs his son. He is getting his son back.  
> “How?”  
> “I will raze this entire land to the ground until I find him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Very sorry about the cliffhanger from last chapter. But, look, we're fine! Techno's here, waking Phil up and- uh oh.  
> Thank you all so much for all of the comments last chapter!! I really enjoyed it!! :)) We are getting very very close to the end, and I can't wait to see what y'all will think of it :))
> 
> Excited to see your reactions to this chapter too!!
> 
> Enjoy!!

There’s a hand shaking his shoulder.

Phil groans and opens his eyes. His complaint falls on his lips as soon as he sees Techno’s expression of pure terror. It’s not just fear, it’s not even dread. He is terrorized.

“Phil,” he says, and his voice is shaking. His face is way, way too pale. “Phil, where is Tommy?”

Phil’s eyes widen.

_ Where is Tommy? _

_ Phil, where is Tommy? _

“What have I done?” he whispers, “Techno, oh Gods, what have I done?”

He repeats the question over and over. He needs Techno to tell him that this was all a nightmare. A very, very bad dream.

Dream.

Oh Gods.

“Phil,” Techno asks very quietly. His hand squeezes Phil’s shoulder as if he were trying to ground him. He looks calmer now, as though Phil’s own panic is forcing him to balance their emotions out. “Phil, what happened?”

Phil shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about it, he doesn’t want to  _ admit  _ it.

What has he done?

“Phil,” Techno insists, “You have to talk to me.”

“I don’t know…” Phil whimpers, “I don’t know… I was… He- I woke up on the cliff. With him.” Techno frowns.

“Him?”

“Dream.”

Techno curses and runs a hand through his hair, taking a step away. Phil feels the guilt grow heavier and heavier in his stomach, slowly devouring him from the inside.

“Shit- Phil. What did he- What did- Fuck. What happened?” Phil doesn’t answer. Instead, he asks the question that has been burning his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There’s a long silence and Techno pulls a chair. He sits by the end of the bed, his eyes boring into Phil’s.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” he asks, “When Dream’s got Tommy?” Phil bites the inside of his cheeks. He doesn’t respond and Techno sighs deeply.

“Why do you think, Phil?” he asks, “You think that I didn’t want to tell you when my little brother came crawling at my door, looking like he had been through hell and back?”

“But you-” Techno shakes his head and raises a hand.

“Do you remember what you told me as soon as you saw me?” he questions. He doesn’t give Phil a second to answer, though. “You asked me if I would join Dream. You insisted that I do.”

“Techno-” The Piglin’s glare stops him from speaking.

“Of course, I didn’t go to the fucking funeral. I wanted to keep an eye on Tommy. I wanted to make sure he was safe. I thought- I thought if you looked distraught enough, it would completely erase Dream’s suspicions that Tommy was alive. I thought I’d tell you when you came back. I was going to tell you.”

Phil remembers what happened next and he feels like he is going to be sick. Techno catches his eyes, and he lets out a dry chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. You’re getting it, now.” Phil nods. “You came back, and I was going to tell you.”

“And then Punz came. And I followed after him.” 

Techno shrugs his shoulders and keeps his palms up. ‘There you go,’ says the gesture. There you go.

“You left and you didn’t give me a chance to tell you. And the next time I saw you, we were on opposing sides.”

“Because of…” Techno nods and he continues, because it is clear that Phil cannot do it.

“Because of Dream.”

What has he done?

He has let the God manipulate him, he has let the God speak gentle, comforting words into his ear until it was the only thing he heard, until he refused to even listen to his own son. Until he looked away when Techno so desperately tried to make him see the truth.

“He was so kind,” he whispers, looking at his shaking hands on the bed, “He told me about how he saved you and how he kept Tommy company, and he helped me grieve for Will. He seemed like he was the only one who understood.” Techno lets out a mirthless laugh.

“Yeah,” he says, “It seems like this is what he does.” Phil frowns.

“What do you mean?” Techno shrugs and looks away.

“This isn’t my story to tell. And besides, all I know is just based on inferences and interpretations of Tommy’s body language.” He sighs. “But it seems to me like you and he will have a lot to talk about.”

Tommy.

Gods.

Tommy, whom the God has taken again.

Tommy, who is being held against his will by a deity who  _ laughed _ at Phil’s grief.

Tommy.

Tommy.

Gods, what has he done?

Phil suddenly understands all the details he has missed. The dullness in Tommy’s eyes. The scars. His thin figure. His sickly complexion.

The fear that had gone through Tommy’s body when Phil had spoken a little too loud, a little too quick.

Dream did it all. Dream caused it all.

Phil is  _ furious _ . He is almost shaking with rage.

Dream took his son. Dream almost caused his son’s death. Dream held him and comforted him when he had been the sole reason for his pain.

Phil thinks that he could kill a God.

Phil  _ knows _ that if he saw a certain God, he would actually show how he earned his nickname. Angel of Death.

“We need to get him back,” Phil says. Techno laughs bitterly and stands up.

“Do you know where he is?” he asks. Phil shakes his head.

“I will,” Phil growls. He moves to get out of bed and Techno raises a hand to stop him. Phil brushes him off. He knows that he shouldn’t stand, but the adrenaline is running through his veins. He needs his son. He is getting his son back.

“How?”

“I will raze this entire land to the ground until I find him.”

There’s a flash of fear in Techno’s eyes. Like he doesn’t recognize him.

“Phil?” Phil doesn’t bother looking at him. His wings spread almost instinctively, and he moves to rummage through Techno’s chests, looking for a weapon. He finds a sword and sheathes it wordlessly.

“I’m getting him back, Techno.”

“Phil, we have to  _ think _ about it!”

“I am not giving him  _ another second _ alone with my son.”

“We don’t even know where he’s keeping him!”

“Then figure it out!”

There’s a beat of silence following the snap. Techno stares at him and Phil pretends not to feel his son’s eyes following him everywhere as he paces through the room. He grabs everything that may be useful. Potions, golden apples, arrows.

“Phil,” Techno calls. He sounds calmer this time, like he has repressed his fear of his own father, like he is back in control. “Phil, look at me.”

There’s a plea in the words and Phil cannot bring himself to ignore his son’s demand. He snaps his eyes to him. Techno is still sitting down, carefully watching every step Phil takes. He looks tired, and there’s a form of dread in his eyes that Phil has very rarely seen. The one Techno had shown only when Tommy would get hurt during training, or when Will wouldn’t come home until the early hours of dawn. He is afraid for his brother. He is afraid for his family.

Techno moves, unfolds his gigantic body, and he towers over Phil. There’s fear in his eyes but there’s also determination written all over his face. Techno is still suited for battle, still carrying his sword, his axe, and his bow, all strapped to his armor. He is a mountain of muscles bringing years of the strictest, most rigorous training behind him. He is dangerous. And he wants to save his family.

Phil remembers the way Techno had almost won their fight. The way he would have, if it hadn't been for his attachment to his father.

“You need me,” Techno says. 

Phil knows he is right. He licks his lips and looks away.

“I do,” he admits. The dangerous glint in Techno’s eyes fades a little and the Piglin’s shoulders relax. He had been ready to fight him for the right to free his brother, Phil realizes. Techno takes one step forward and he is by his side. He brings one of his hands up and gently holds the back of Phil’s neck. It’s a strong, firm hold. It promises protection.

“I’m behind you, Phil,” he says, “Always.” Phil nods, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. He doesn’t deserve Techno’s unrelenting support and he knows it. He is at fault for this all.

He has killed Wilbur. He has abandoned Tommy to a lonely island and let the God whisper taunts in his son’s ears, slowly breaking him from the insane. He has let Dream manipulate  _ him _ , slowly play him, carefully drawing the bowstring until Phil was nothing but a weapon, tense and ready to fire on the God’s command.

And he had. He almost killed Techno.

Gods.

Phil looks into Techno’s eyes. Red eyes that promise violence, revenge, and  _ family _ .

There’s one thing Dream didn’t take into consideration. Phil may have been a weapon for him. He may have let the God taste what it felt like to control the Angel of Death. But at the end of the day, Phil only is in control. He chooses what he fights for. What the Angel of Death fights for.

And, right now, it’s Tommy.

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Techno’s, the way they used to do when they mentally prepared for battle. Techno’s against him, familiar, safe. But also tense and ready to fight. Ready to kill.

“Okay,” Phil says in a murmur that resonates within the cabin, “On your terms, then. Where do we start?”

***

They start in a cave. In a hole carved into a mountain, protected by mechanisms that have Phil’s mind swing a little.

They start in a room, surrounded by skulls that pulse with pure power and dozens of chests with all the material necessary to start a catastrophe, a disaster as powerful as the Flood.

Phil’s head snaps back and forth between the walls – the walls covered in enough skulls, enough strike force to bring a God to his knees. He feels almost giddy.

There are questions burning his lips though. How? How had Techno accumulated enough wither skulls to form a force that can rival a God’s? When? Had this happened after Techno’s failed execution? Beforehand? Had Techno started collecting them a few days after Will’s death?  _ Why _ ? What had Techno been planning? Where and how had he originally wanted to use them? Had he made plans to fully annihilate Dream’s lands, long before Phil even acknowledged Dream as an enemy?

He doesn’t ask any of those questions though, instead, he keeps turning on himself and staring at the walls. He feels Techno’s eyes on him. He can almost sense the smug smile on his son’s face.

Techno has always liked to be prepared for battles, but this?

This is more than a battle. This is a war they are waging.

They are going to take down a God.

He looks to Techno, to his eyes that promise violence and revenge. He trusts him. He knows that if Techno is here, they will get Tommy back.

“What’s the plan?”

Techno raises his arms, calling for patience.

“Easy- I didn’t plan this far along. I was just…” He shrugs. “Preparing to cause chaos. Not to find my brother and rip him away from a God.” Phil chuckles bitterly.

“Well, we have to do that, now,” he says. He spreads his wings a little, growing restless.

“You don’t think that if we wait long enough Dream will just get tired of Tommy’s whining and give him back to us?” Phil gives him a look. The disappointed parent look. Techno scrunches his nose. “Not in a joking mood,” he comments, “Okay, got the memo.”

Phil sighs deeply and he moves around the room. He opens the chest, grabbing enough material to spawn a few dozen Withers. Dream’s land will be nothing once he is done with it.

“You think we could trade with him?” Techno drawls, “Tommy against his kingdom not being a crater?” Phil thinks about it for a second before shaking his head.

“I don’t think he cares,” he says slowly, “He sounded too… I don’t know… It seems like he wants Tommy for himself. He was so upset when he learned that you had kept him hidden from us.” Techno tenses.

“‘Us’?” he repeats with a dry chuckle, “The exact reason I kept him hidden in the first place.” He sighs and Phil opens his mouth to apologize. To clarify, once again, that it is all his fault. Techno seems to read his mind though, because he interrupts him before he can begin. “Don’t. We don’t have time for self-pitying. I’ll yell at you for all of this when we get him back.”

They exchange a smile and Phil relaxes, despite the promise of a lecture. He’s got Techno with him. They have each other.

“Okay, so we can’t just barter for Tommy,” Techno continues, “Where would he keep him? He’s got no base.” Phil frowns a little.

“Somewhere in the center?” he asks, “With an ally? Like at Punz’s tower?” Techno shrugs.

“That’s the best bet we got,” he says. He hesitates before he puts a hand on Phil’s shoulder.

“You fly there,” he says, “You try to see if you can detect anything.”

“And you?” Phil asks, furrowing his eyebrows. Techno gestures around the room.

“I’ll be right behind you, Phil,” he promises, “But first I need to get ready to take down a God.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, Dream and Phil destroyed L'Manberg by themselves in this AU, so Techno still has a ton of Withers. And he is mad.  
> Hopefully, they get there in time. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!!


	15. Philza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He flies around the outside of the prison, desperately looking for an entrance, for a hole, for anything. He turns around the towers like a lion in his cage. In his case though, Dream is inside the cage. Phil is a lion and he wants in.  
> He feels almost giddy as he circles around the perimeter of the prison. Dream will have to get out eventually. He will have to get out and Phil will take the opportunity.  
> He will get his son back, and he will make Dream pay for having touched his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are! Final chapter!  
> Phil goes feral again, but for the right reasons this time!
> 
> I hope you all like this chapter, and I will see you in the end notes for closing thoughts.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Tommy is not in the tower. Phil is certain of that. It’s deserted. The room on the highest floor is full of riches that Punz must have accumulated for his services to Dream

Phil tries not to think about the fact that he could have become like him. That Dream had been about to make him crack. A few more days and Phil would have become a weapon for Dream to use. Dream’s Angel of Death. He hates it.

He doesn’t bother searching the rest of the house. It’s empty. Phil senses it. He takes flight again and floats around, just below the clouds, his eyes searching for any sign of his son. He almost feels like a bird of prey, a raptor searching for his next kill.

In his case, a God.

He doesn’t find Dream. Instead, he finds a gigantic black structure that stands ominously in the ocean. It is so impossibly large, so incredibly imposing, that Phil wonders how he didn’t notice it earlier. He flies above the stone towers, observes the iron at the windows, and a growl sneaks its way out of his throat.

He hates it.

His son is in there.

He knows it.

Tommy is in there, afraid and alone, and desperate. And Dream is with him. Phil is almost blinded by pure rage.

He doesn’t wait for Techno, which, with hindsight, might have been a terrible mistake. He dives in. He flies around the outside of the prison, desperately looking for an entrance, for a hole, for _anything_ . He turns around the towers like a lion in his cage. In his case though, Dream is inside the cage. Phil is a lion and he wants _in_.

He feels almost giddy as he circles around the perimeter of the prison. Dream will have to get out eventually. He will have to get out and Phil will take the opportunity.

He will get his son back, and he will make Dream _pay_ for having touched his family.

The sun starts peaking out, just a line in the horizon, when something moves. There’s a presence on top of one of the towers and Phil _freezes._ He stops flapping his wings and remains up, just carried by the winds.

The Netherite armor shines on top of the tower and Phil waits, immobile. Ready to strike. He meets pale blue eyes. It’s Punz.

Phil snarls.

The mercenary goes to take his sword, but he completely freezes at the sight of Phil is holding a bow menacingly, the string fully drawn.

“I’ll get your jugular first,” he promises, “You won’t get a second to scream.” Punz opens his mouth but the way Phil shifts his hold on the bow very likely convinces him not to say a word. “Go get him,” he orders, “My business is not with you.”

Punz holds his gaze for a moment before he nods, stiff, and scampers away from the tower. Phil flies to where the man had been standing and curses when he is only met with black stone. He doesn’t understand how Punz left. How any of them are moving around the prison.

He endures the waiting. Dream will be out soon.

The sun is halfway out when Phil hears some shuffling behind him. He has landed on one of the towers, staring out to the sea, as he waited for something to happen.

It’s happening now.

“Philza.”

A growl finds its way from the bottom of Phil’s throat and all the way past his lips.

“You.”

He turns and sees the God take a step back.

“I didn’t think I would see you so soon,” Dream says in a calm voice – almost appeasing. Phil snarls at him.

“Where is my son.”

It is not a question. Not in the intonation, not in the tone. It’s an order.

“You killed your son,” Dream replies, “In a hidden room above L’Manberg.” Phil has to stop himself from jumping into the fight immediately.

“You know this isn’t about him,” he growls dangerously.

“Which one is it about, then?” Dream asks, his voice soft and velvety and _detestable_. “The one you abandoned to my mercy, or the one I had to save because your carelessness led L’Manberg to him?”

Phil doesn’t bother replying. He raises his bow, holds it tight and ready to fire.

“Where is my son, Dream?”

The God laughs and shakes his head. He leans against the prison wall, faking a confidence that he doesn’t have.

“I saved your son,” Dream declares softly, almost teasingly. Phil growls.

“You took my son,” he hisses, “You tried to drive Tommy to suicide.”

“Is that what he told you?” Dream's tone is low and condescending. “Phil, Phil, Phil... You should know better than trust this child. He doesn't know what he is talking about. I did what was best for him.” There’s a smile in his voice – a demented smile, and Phil wonders if that’s Dream’s true form. “The boy needed to be tamed, and his father wouldn't do it. So I had to step in.”

Phil opens his mouth to answer but he doesn't get the chance. Whatever words he wanted to say are drowned by a roar of pure anger and, in a second, Techno is on the God, trying to punch the satisfied smirk off his face.

Phil looks behind him, not having heard the Piglin arrive, too focused that he was on Dream and Dream only.

He turns back to the commotion and looks as Techno’s fist meets the mask and cracks it in the middle. Porcelain pieces fall on the ground, immediately forgotten. Dream stands back up easily but has to wipe a drop of blood from his mouth. It taints the white mask and Phil realizes that it looks more real like that. More like what Dream truly is.

“Control your beast, Philza,” the God spits, glowering.

“Nothing controls me,” Techno replies, seething, but he still steps back when Phil raises a hand.

They fall into silence. Techno’s chest is heaving, and Phil can sense him right next to him, readying himself for a battle against a God.

“Where is my son?” he says, for the third time. This time, Dream doesn’t laugh.

“Away,” he says, “Where you can’t get to him. Deep inside the prison where only I can get him.”

Phil smiles, very calm.

“Techno?” he says, and he feels his son tense next to him. “Get the Withers.”

He doesn’t give Dream a second to ask questions – he leaps. One second, he is by his son’s side, the next he is right in front of the God. His sword clashes against Nightmare and Phil senses the raw power from the sword. He ignores it, though. Because a Godly sword will not save Dream.

Nothing will save him.

He hears explosions behind them and the smile on Dream’s lips falter.

“What have you done?” he asks. Phil laughs.

“I’m getting my son back,” he responds, “I’m getting my son back and making sure that you can _never_ touch him again.”

“They’ll kill him!” Dream protests, avoiding one of Phil’s hits and staring at the Withers as they destroy the prison. There’s smoke in the air and Dream coughs. Phil ignores it.

“Techno won’t let them,” he says, “Tommy won’t die today. You, though?”

Phil swings his sword and Dream barely dodges the attack. They start fighting for real at this point. Nightmare moves of its own accord, listening to its master. It comes and brush against Phil’s shoulder and the winged man lets out a hiss of pain when it draws blood. He flaps his wings and moves away, taking a second to recuperate. Dream follows him, a demented grin on his lips. Phil sees Nightmare flash and he has a second to parry.

Metal clang.

Phil’s wings move furiously, and the draft brings Dream a few steps back. The God gets back to his feet easily though, just in time to block Phil’s incoming attack.

They both fall into a dance. It is much more different from the one Phil had danced with Techno. In L’Manberg, even as they fought, there had been a certain sense of companionship. A respect of the rules. This dance has none of it. It’s pure violence. A wish to draw blood, a _need_ to win. Dream break the rules and Phil breaks them with him.

It’s a fight to the death between a God - a Devil - and the mortal who once shook his hand.

Phil gets a lucky hit and Dream roars when a thin red line appears on his arm. It’s not even deep – it’s a scratch. But Dream screams as if he had been killed.

“I’m a God!” he yells, “You can’t kill me!”

Phil’s eyes shine with fury. He strikes again and Dream steps back to avoid being hit. Back toward the wall.

“I’m the Angel of Death,” Phil replies, and a smile forms on his lips, “You know that. You made me go back to it.”

He swings again. Three times. The third time, Dream’s back is against the wall. The God’s chest heaves rapidly as Phil presses the tip of his sword right in front of his heart.

“You’re not going to kill me, Philza,” Dream says slowly – there’s fear in his voice. In his eyes.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Phil responds, voice lower than a murmur, “Give me one reason, Dream.” His hand shakes slightly around the hilt of the sword. He closes his fingers a little tighter around it. “One good reason.”

He expects Dream to lie against. To manipulate him the way he has been, all this time. He prepares himself for it.

But the God says nothing.

It’s not just fear in Dream’s eyes now. It’s raw terror.

He knows that Phil is going to kill him.

“Phil-”

He ignores the desperation in Dream’s voice and touches the tip of the sword to the God’s chest.

“Phil-”

He doesn’t give him the time to continue. He doesn’t want Dream to speak and subdue him again.

“Should I change my nickname, Dream?” Phil asks tranquilly as he very slowly moves the sword forward, “What do you think is best? Angel of Death, or Godslayer?”

“Phil-” He ignores the plea.

“Phil!”

That’s not Dream. That was Techno’s voice. Phil turns immediately, his eyes searching for a second before they fall on the Piglin, in the middle of the rubbles. He is standing at the center of the destruction, all alone.

Wait.

There’s a figure below him.

A little blond figure, curled up on himself, so small, so fragile, surrounded by the outcome of his family’s anger.

Phil’s sword falls and, before he knows it, he is in the air, flying to his son. His sons.

He starts breathing again when Tommy is against his chest. Phil holds him tightly – perhaps a bit too tight – and he refuses to let go. He hadn’t realized how hard it had been to breathe, but he is free now.

Phil is free.

Tommy is free.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats again and again, and he moves one hand to hold the back of Tommy’s head, “I’ve got you, Toms. I’ve got you.”

There’s shuffling behind him and he feels Techno’s large hand on top of his, right above Tommy’s hair.

“We’ve got you,” the Piglin corrects, his voice a comforting rumble, “You’re safe.”

Tommy breaks down in his father’s arms. He cries silently, and Phil cries with him.

***

The sun is at zenith when Phil finally lets go of Tommy. He helps his son stand up, doesn’t comment on the slight stumble, on the way Tommy holds onto him not to fall again.

Techno left a few hours ago. Neither of them had spoken when the warm presence above them had disappeared. Phil had simply held Tommy a little tighter.

They walk around the rubbles of the prison, Tommy’s thin hand clenched around Phil’s. As if the boy was terrified to see his father leave again. He doesn’t.

He won’t leave ever again.

When they join the Prime Path, Techno is waiting for them. He has an axe, held carelessly over his shoulder. A black axe that he’s never had before. Phil looks at the dark liquid that drips from it and doesn’t comment.

Tommy does.

“Is that Nightmare?” he asks, his voice hesitant – almost subdued.

Techno shrugs.

“And what if it was?”

Tommy hesitates. He looks back at Phil who gives him a reassuring smile and squeezes his hand comfortingly. That must work, because the next question is louder, and much more _Tommy_ :

“Fuck yeah! Can I have it?” Techno snorts.

“In your dreams, brat. In your drea-”

They all freeze a little at the word. The name. Tommy makes himself a little smaller and Phil swallows thickly.

“He won’t come back,” Techno says firmly. “He won’t come after either of you.”

Phil looks up to the Piglin and exchanges a long look with his son. There are thousands of questions in his eyes. Is the God gone? Is he defeated? Is he dead? Has Techno enacted Phil’s vengeance while Phil was holding Tommy to his chest? Techno smirks and silently refuses to reply. He looks away.

“I don’t care much for the axe,” he drawls, breaking the silence. “I guess we can use it as a paperweight or something.”

“As a paperweight?” Tommy repeats clearly offended on behalf of the weapon, “Technoblade, you are the worst! The absolute worst man I know!”

“Ouch,” Techno deadpans, raising a hand to his heart and holding it. “This comment is shaking me to my core. Whatever will I do now that my brother has insulted me. Whatever will I become. Oh woes.”

Phil chuckles at the way Tommy is almost buzzing as he screeches insults at Techno and tries to swat at him with one hand. The other is still holding onto Phil’s. 

Phil doesn’t have the heart to let go. He doesn’t think he ever will.

They keep walking and Phil looks to the crater of what used to be L’Manberg. The crater he made. He remembers the house arrest and his rage. He remembers Dream offering his hand and letting him out of the house.

He never left arrest, though, Phil realizes. He just moved from one warden to another. From a city-state to a God.

He is free now, he thinks. Free to fly away.

Tommy’s hand is still holding onto his, warm and present. His son is holding him there, holding him back with him, back to the earth, and back to his family.

Phil stays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh, I'm emotional again! I am very bad at finishing publishing fics, it just makes me very sappy.
> 
> I am so excited to hear what y'all thought, and how you feel about this ending - Phil didn't get revenge, not directly, but perhaps that's the biggest character growth there. I'm so ready to tell you more about the behind-the-scenes in the comments!!
> 
> On that topic though, I really really want to thank all of the commenters from the bottom of my heart. A lot of you have been here almost every single chapter, and reading your feedback, reactions, and theories has been so incredible. I am beyond grateful to all of you, and I really hope to see some familiar faces (usernames) on my next fic!
> 
> My next work is already finished and ready to publish. It's a 60k monster that centers around Bad, Skeppy, and Ranboo, with a looooot of Phil and Techno. We pick up after Doomsday but follow an alternative universe where both Bad and Ranboo are from the End. Ranboo forgot, and Bad doesn't want to talk about his past. And Dream's lurking (obviously). I've had a loooot of fun writing it, and I really hope to see some of you guys there!  
> (My wife says you all are going to kill me apparently?) (She says it's angsty.) (She might be right...) (Angst is the only thing I know how to write...)  
> I will probably start publishing it tomorrow or in the next few days! :))
> 
> Thanks again for all your support thorough this fic! It has been a ride and I was so happy to have y'all abroad!!


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